


The Battle We Lost

by Jessinger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Dirty Jokes, Dirty Talk, F/M, Internal Conflict, Marriage, Marriage Law Challenge, Oral Sex, Post-War, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:06:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 40,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27379177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessinger/pseuds/Jessinger
Summary: After the War, the Ministry forces the 7th years back to Hogwarts as well as institutes an new marriage law. Draco wants to start a business and Hermione wants to start over. Can they manage to get along without strangling each other? ALSO AVAILABLE ON FF.NET
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 8
Kudos: 51





	1. Prologue

THE BATTLE WE LOST   
Prologue 

September 1st, 1998   
122 days.   
17 weeks and three days   
Three months and 30 days.   
That's how long it had been since we lost 69 wizards in the Battle of Hogwarts. Fifty-one had been Hogwarts students, and who cared about the rest. One hundred twenty-two days ago, the Second Wizarding War had ended with the death of the Dark Lord after lasting nearly three years.   
The Wizarding World has managed to pick up the pieces after the war, but the healing would take time, much longer than four months. Everything had started to go back to normal, or at least as normal as it could have been after the events that took place on May 2nd, 1998.   
Voldemort's reign of terror that caused two wars, lasted nearly 20 years, and caused over 7,500 deaths, muggle and wizard alike, had finally ended that day. Normalcy was something people hadn't felt in a long time.   
The Department of Magical Education had required the graduating class to make up their 7th year of schooling, although the Ministry felt as if "they had suffered enough" and needed more "normalcy" in their lives.   
The concept made Hermione snort. She was beginning to think they didn't know what that word meant in the first place. 

Hermione made her way to Platform 9 and ¾ for the last time as a student (well, she hoped to Godric it was the last time), as her classmates referred to as "8th years". She had undoubtedly been named Head Girl this year, although she felt it wasn't fair to the 7th years not to have a chance. However, they did have the title of 'High Prefects', meaning they were definingly in the running for Heads before Voldemort went on his genocidal rampage. She felt the whole thing was absurd. She had already received a job offer from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement preceding her graduation, and she felt like waiting any longer was prolonging the inevitable. 

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of old sneakers hitting the pavement, preceded by a loud "' Mione!"   
The two boys nearly knocked her to the ground as they both tackled her in a bear hug. 

"You two nearly scared me half to death!" She laughed. 

She looked at both of their smiling faces. Harry had seemed to have aged ten years since the battle. His face seemed older and wiser, more experienced with life, a look that Dumbledore often had when he knew something you didn't.   
Ron, however, hadn't changed much. His hair was still very red, and his face was still covered in freckles. The death of his brother had taken a toll on the Weasley's, George most of all, but he had done an excellent job of hiding it and putting on a brave face for the world. 

Following the battle, she and Ron had tried to date during the summer but found that it hadn't quite worked out as well as they initially hoped it would. Or at least, that's what Hermione felt. Ron still was under the impression that they could overcome their differences and make it work sometime after graduation. He was still as stubborn as he was when they first met. 

"How is our favorite Head Girl?" Harry asked in a slightly teasing tone   
Hermione rolled her eyes, "the same as usual."   
"Is that good or bad?" Ron asked   
"I will let you know when I find out," she replied, "by the way, where is Ginny?"   
Ron waved his hand dismissively "she was somewhere behind us, don't know where she bloody ended up."   
Before she could reply, the Hogwarts Express pulled in with a mechanical groan as the engine hissed.   
"I suppose we should get on, eh? "Harry said, "before all the seats get taken by first years."   
"Agreed," she said.   
They all wordlessly followed Harry onto the train looking for a seat somewhere on the crowded and noisy bus. They made their way through each section of the train, carefully trying not to get whacked in the head with careless students' trunks as they tried to fit them in the overhead compartments. They finally reached the train's end to find all of the "8th years occupied it". They all nodded in our general direction, acknowledging that they weren't currently in the mood for celebrating, although we had won. We found seats and settled into them silently, not quite knowing what to say. The last time they had been on this train was two years ago, their 6th year. The year Dumbledore had died in the Astronomy Tower, and the year they had found out about all of the Dark Lord's Horcruxes. None of the Golden Trio thought that they'd ever see the Hogwarts Express again, whether it be they died in battle or if Hogwarts had been destroyed.   
After Hogwarts was left in shambles, the Ministry, staff, and even a few students went to work repairing it with magic. From the news and other stories that had been floating around, it looks as if nothing ever happened to it. As if it was completely untouched by the horrors it had seen.   
They spent most of the ride chatting about various things when a few Slytherins approached us.   
Standing before us was Gregory Goyle.   
"Potter," Gregory said, nodding politely.   
"Goyle," Harry said with equal formality.   
You could feel the tension in the air as the four of them were silent after a few seconds.   
Then Goyle did something unexpected. He held out his hand.   
"It's time I apologize for the things I did when we were younger. Malfoy wasn't exactly the best influence. Especially when it came to blood purity views," he said, acknowledging me in the last part.   
Harry took his hand and shook it. "I appreciate it, Goyle."   
Goyle nodded and sat back down without another word.   
Ron leaned forward, "speaking of Malfoy, where is he?"   
Harry shrugged his shoulders, "dunno, heard the Ministry gave him the option of taking 'at home classes' this year after his trial. Like some probationary period."   
Draco Malfoy had been put on trial for treason and various other war crimes after the Second Wizarding War. Draco pleaded 'not guilty,' stating he was blackmailed with his and his mothers' lives by the Dark Lord if he didn't comply. This sent the Wizarding World into a complete and total uproar. Most of the wizarding population found his statement to be ludicrous and full of lies, demanding that he be stripped of his magic and his wand be snapped. The streets were practically rioting, but that small 2% (mostly his friends who knew the truth behind his motives and his mother) testified in his favor.   
After almost two months of arguing, the Wizengamot found Draco Lucius Malfoy and his mother Narcissa Malfoy (née Black) 'not guilty,' saying that they were 'not to be held responsible for Lucius Malfoy's actions and their crimes were committed in the act of self-preservation.'   
Draco was put on a short probationary period that only allowed him to practice certain spells and only visit specific places in the Wizarding World that were approved by the Ministry for the first month after the trial. After the first month, he would face the Wizengamot once again to be re-evaluated on whether or not he was seen as a 'danger to the public' and if he would be able to return to Hogwarts to continue his studies.   
We hadn't heard anything after that, and by the lack of his presence on the train, it was clear that the Council had not let him return to the school.   
A large part of Hermione was relieved that he would be unable to return to Hogwarts and have to finish his schooling elsewhere. After the war, he hadn't changed much. He was still the same old rich and entitled prat that she had met her first year. Although he had discontinued using the word Mudblood, there was still a faint trace of prejudice in him.   
Surprisingly enough, that prejudice still existed even after the war. There just wasn't any violence behind it, only cruel words and unapproving looks.   
But alas, Malfoy wasn't on the train, and Malfoy was not coming back to Hogwarts.   
Unless, of course, he walked.   
Hermione slightly giggled at the idea of the rich Pureblood, heir to the Malfoy fortune and estates walking anywhere. That and it's impossible to walk to Hogwarts.   
Harry and Ron shot her a look like she was off her rocker, but before she could explain, the conductor's voice filled the train.   
"Would the Head Boy and Head Girl please find their way to the Head compartment in 45 minutes." 

Hermione got up with a sigh and grabbed her bags. She said her goodbyes to both of the boys, ignoring their protests of it being 45 minutes from the deadline, before walking to the front of the train. It took her about 5 minutes to drag her trunk halfway to the front of the train before he realized that she was a witch and didn't need to haul a ridiculously large trunk 1,000 miles.   
She took out her wand and pointed it at her trunk, "Reducio," she whispered.   
The trunk folded and shrunk down to the size of a matchbox, and she pocketed the newly sized trunk and her wand, tucking them both back into her robes as she made it the rest of the way to the front of the train.   
She tried to locate the Head compartment door while wondering who this year's Head Boy would be.   
"Probably Dean or Seamus; they always kept good marks," she thought to herself.   
She finally found the door and opened it. She took one step in and looked around. The unmistakable trademark silver-blonde hair flashed in the corner of her eyes as a voice spoke. 

"Fancy seeing you here, Granger."


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new marriage law is announced and Hermione has some words to say about it

CHAPTER 1:   
"Fancy seeing you here, Granger."   
Hermione Granger sat there in awe, and none other than the Slytherin Prince stood before her. 6'2" muscular build towered over her 5'5" and feminine one. Many of the students had matured after the War, but Malfoy seemed to have changed the most. His trademark silver-blonde hair was combed back and styled, and his silver eyes glittered in a far less menacing way than they did before. His pale skin looked almost flawless over his toned muscles. His white dress shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, exposing that damned tattoo.   
Although the Dark Mark was still visible, it was evident that it had faded significantly over the last four months. In a few months, it would most likely be unnoticeable.   
Despite the hideous mark on his arm, he looked attractive.   
"That's not the point, Hermione," she thought.   
Malfoy cleared his throat, "are you done doing that?' He asked with the faintest trace of a smirk.   
Hermione looked up, "am I done doing what?"   
Malfoy ran a hand through his hair, "ogling me, Granger."   
"I-I-I was NOT ogling you, Malfoy. I was wondering why you are in here in the first place."   
"For the brightest witch of her age, you can be quite dull sometimes, Granger."   
Hermione felt her face turn red and hot with anger.   
"I'm here for the same reason you are. I'm Head Boy."   
Hermione almost fainted. She would have to share a dormitory (or at least a common room) with the person who had been a constant pain in her arse for the last eight years.   
"How? How is that even possible when-"   
"When I am a war criminal? You and I were both at my trial Granger," Hermione tried to open her mouth in protest, "I saw you in the stands, Granger. There is no reason to lie. It's simple: I had the highest marks of anyone in our year, besides you, that is. Naturally, I'm Head Boy. Don't seem too surprised." 

Hermione went quiet. A knot of anxiety began filling her stomach with the thought of having to live with him. They both fought like cats and dogs for years. What on Earth made McGonagall think that this was a good idea. What if he tried to hex her in her sleep? What if he wanted to kill her, or even worse, what if he-   
"Granger, take a deep breath. I've had enough blood on my hands than I have wanted. I'm not going to kill you," He paused, "unless you annoy me too much, then I might consider it."   
Hermione couldn't tell if he was joking or not.   
"We all thought the Wizengamot didn't let you continue your studies," Hermione said quietly.   
Malfoy chuckled darkly, "Well, as long as it works out in their favor, the Ministry can be quite forgiving."   
Before she could ask what he meant, the compartment door opened. Headmaster McGonagall stepped inside.   
"I figured you'd already been here, Ms. Granger," McGonagall said, "I might as well start briefing you all early then."   
McGonagall then proceeded to brief them on all the rules, new and old, as well as other tidbits that might be beneficial to their duties as Heads.   
"Your portrait is located near the kitchens; it's a sleeping dragon. The password is 'novis initiis.' I expect you to be giving a short speech regarding the new year at dinner. We will be arriving in 20 minutes, so you'd best be getting dressed in your robes." And with that, McGonagall left the cabin with a formal nod.   
Hermione pulled her wand out of her pocket suddenly.   
"Woah! Granger, hexing me already?"   
"No, you git, I'm getting dressed."   
She pulled out her bewitched trunk from her jacket pocket and set it down on the ground.   
"Engorgio!" She said, waving her wand and pointing it at her trunk.   
The trunk immediately enlarged to normal size. Hermione began rifling through to find her robes. After finding what she was looking for, she pulled out her robes and carefully laid the clothing across the bench to her left, as well as a book she had retrieved. She stood and looked around, looking for a changing room.   
Of course, there wasn't one. That's how things like this work.   
"Malfoy! Turn around and clothes your eyes so I can get dressed, "she said, turning around.   
She then discovered that Malfoy was, in fact, not wearing a shirt.   
Classic.   
"What was that, Granger?" He turned around, without any shame as she felt her face get very red.   
"Never seen a half-naked man Granger?"   
"That's entirely none of your damned business. Now close your eyes before I blind you prick."   
"Hey, now, do we need to resort to violence already? What are we? Muggles? Oh, wait," He smirked.   
She grabbed the book from her trunk that was lying on the bench and threw it at him as hard as he could. He put his hand up and stopped the book midair. He grabbed the book and walked over to her. He stuck the book out to her, implying that she take it back.   
"You dropped something," he sneered.   
She took the book from him rather forcefully, "it certainly wasn't my standards Malfoy. The Wizengamot might have gone easy on you, but I won't. I will hex you into next week if I have to."   
"I wouldn't have it another way Granger," he smirked, "I highly suggest that you start acting civil. Things are changing, and we might soon be finding ourselves forced into being... friendly."   
"What does that even me-" w   
"What is going on in the- Oh! What in Godric's name are you doing, Malfoy! Stop being inappropriate and put clothing on!" McGonagall chirped harshly. "We will be arriving shortly."   
McGonagall shut the door without another word.   
Malfoy did as he was told and finished dressing in his robes, and Hermione did the same as quickly as she could.   
'What on Earth could Malfoy have been talking about earlier?' She thought to herself.   
Before she could get an answer, the train lurched to a stop and the sound of students beginning to get off. Hermione stood and reapplied the charm to her trunk and tucked it into her robes. She hurriedly made her way to the carriages so she could help direct traffic. 

When she made it outside, she noticed the change in the students' faces. The first years were utterly oblivious to it, but most of the other students knew.   
The thestrals pulling the carriages whinnied and stamped impatiently.   
Almost everyone involved in the War has witnessed death, and thestrals were a dreadful reminder of that.   
Shaking that thought out of her head, she began directing students and making sure everyone was where they were supposed to be. Before they knew it, they entered the Great Hall.   
The room hadn't changed one bit; even after all of the destruction, it was still as breathtaking as it was when she first saw it at the age of 11. Students were being seated, and dinner started. Halfway through the meal, McGonagall stood up and cleared her throat. After she had managed to get everyone's full attention, she began the typical start of term speech.   
"Welcome! Welcome! To Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! To our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you!" She cried; the speech was practically identical to the one Dumbledore used to do each year.   
"Now, before we begin our festivities, I would like to take this time to honor our fallen with a moment of silence. To Fred Weasley, Vincent Crabbe, Colin Creavey, and Lavender Brown. You will not be forgotten."   
The Great Hall fell silent as everyone, especially the 8th years, mourned their fallen friends and family's loss.   
They proceeded to begin the sorting ceremony. After all of the 1st years had been sorted into their respected houses, speeches from the prefects (not the Head Boy or Girl yet which Hermione found strange) McGonagall stood up.   
"Now, if you would kindly follow your head of house to your new dormitories, with the exception of the 7th years." She said.   
There were murmurs of confusion all around; all of the 7th years (including what we were now referring to as the '8th years') stayed seated. Once the Great Hall had emptied of everyone, she magicked the doors shut with a loud "thud!" and began talking.   
"If the Head Boy and Head Girl could join me."   
Hermione looked at her friends with a confused expression.   
"What in Godric's name is going on?"   
She and Malfoy joined McGonagall upon the stage.   
"I have an announcement to make on behalf of the Ministry of Magic," McGonagall said grimly. She cleared her throat again and unrolled a long piece of parchment paper.   
McGonagall began speaking. 

"Welcome back students for another year at Hogwarts. May this year be better than the last. 

After much discussion and debate, the Ministry would like to announce the 1865 marriage law's reinstatement on September 4th, 1998. Due to the decreasing population of wizards and witches within the last 30 years due to the First and Second Wizarding Wars, the Ministry has decided to reinstate a marriage law to preserve the wizarding community's livelihood. 

Much like the Wizarding law of 1865, this law will affect unmarried wizards and witches between the ages of 17-35 and will be in effect for the next nine years. After the end of the 9-year term, the Ministry will reevaluate the law and reinstate it if they see fit. For the wizards and witches that qualify, they will be matched based on a simple charm that chooses a partner based on similar intellect, skills, interests, and so forth to ensure the relationship's best possible outcome. The matched couple will be required to marry within the first four months of being matched or two months following graduation if one or more parties decide to complete their schooling first. Once the couple is married, they will have one year to conceive a child and another two years to produce another child. Each married couple is required to produce two children within three years of marriage. The couple may choose to separate (under the discretion of the Ministry) after the youngest child reaches the age of 5. Failure to comply with this new law will result in the wizard(s) or witch(s) wand being snapped and stripped of all magic, as well as ex-communication from the wizarding world.   
The matching charm will be performed over the course of 72 hours, beginning on Friday, September 4th, 1998, at 5 PM and ending on September 6th, 1998, at 5 PM.   
The Ministry of Magic thanks you for your cooperation and wishes you well in your studies for your final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

Signed, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister for Magic 

The entire Great Hall was completely silent for a full minute after McGonagall finished reading the Ministry's letter. Mouths were agape and face filled with shock as the weight of the Ministry's announcement sunk in. Draco look unfazed by the entire situation, almost as if it wasn't a shock.   
Was this what he meant by 'things are changing' when we were on the train?   
"Be forced into marriage or be stripped of magic? Bloody Hell!" An unidentifiable voice called out from the back. The Great Hall began erupting with questions.   
"Children! Children! Quiet down! All questions will be answered later by your respective head of house. Now, it's time for our Head Boy and Girl to speak. Ladies first, Miss Granger."   
McGonagall didn't even try to force a sense of false happiness. She was just as angry about this whole predicament as we were. She motioned for Hermione to step up to the podium. She obliged. 

Hermione shakily stepped up and cleared her throat. 

"Fellow student of Hogwarts, we are utterly screwed."


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione learns some things and Malfoy drinks some more

CHAPTER 2:   
"Fellow student of Hogwarts, we are utterly screwed." 

Or at least that's what Hermione wanted to say. At first, she only just sat there trying to find the words to convey how shocked and horrendous she felt about the whole thing.   
To think that I will be working with them in 9 months.   
"Students of Hogwarts, "she said, her voice breaking, "it is with great honor to announce that I am Head Girl alongside my fellow Head Boy Mr. Malfoy."   
She paused, looking out among the crowd of her pale-faced classmates, her stomach twisting in knots.   
"Regarding this new law, I think... I think we uh... need... uh," she stammered.   
Malfoy stepped in.   
"I think what my Head Girl is trying to say is that regardless of how we feel about this new law, we all must comply. We lost enough wizards and witches during both of the wars; there is no need to lose anymore due to ex-communication."   
Hermione tuned out whatever he was saying after he referred to her as "my Head Girl." She was beginning to think that he knew far more than he was willing to let on about the subject, and she wanted to know why.   
"We can find a way to deal with this after the charm is performed," Hermione finished.   
There wasn't anything left to be said after that, so McGonagall dismissed the rest of the students to their common rooms.   
Hermione and Draco walked towards their common room in complete silence. Malfoy had his hands shoved in his pockets, staring blankly in front of him. Once they reached the portrait of the sleeping dragon, Malfoy muttered the password.   
"Novis initiis," Draco whispered.   
The portrait door opened with a moan as if it hadn't been used in 100 years.   
The Heads' common room looked like a smaller scale version of any other house's common rooms. There was a single couch with a coffee table in the middle of the room. Behind the couch was a wall that separated two sets of staircases. The staircase to the left was a metallic gold color with a maroon curtain hanging above—each of their house's respective colors.   
"Malfoy?" Hermione asked.   
He didn't answer; he only raised an eyebrow and turned his head slightly toward her, hands still in his pockets.   
"Did... did you know about the law?" She asked timidly. 

Malfoy sighed. "I'm not supposed to say. But I can tell you the Ministry did need funding as well as magical help from an outside source to make sure that the charm worked."   
"Is that why the Wizengamot let you come back to school? Because you funded and created the charm? Do you know who your match is?"   
"Goodnight, Granger," Malfoy made his way up the silver staircase on the right side of the room without another word.   
Hermione knew she wouldn't be getting any answers anytime soon. She gave up and made her way up to her bedroom. She noticed when she got to the top of the stairs that there was a loo behind a door located to her bedroom's right. She opened the door to her room, and she looked around at the breath-taking room.   
There was a queen-sized canopy bed in the middle of the room decorated in her house's colors. A wardrobe was located to the left of her bed and a window with a small desk to her right. She looked out of the window and noticed that she could see the window looking into Malfoy's room. The room was illuminated, and although the blinds were closed, she could see the silhouette of Malfoy loosening the tie around his neck and running a hand through his hair. Hermione looked away, feeling as though she invaded his privacy, and blushed. She drew the blinds to her window and got ready for bed. She flopped down onto the ridiculously comfortable bed and sighed.   
By the time Hermione has woken up, she realized that she was already going to be late to her first class, Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Merrythought. She began frantically running around, getting dressed, and performing a few simple cleansing spells because she knew she didn't have time to shower or brush her teeth. She grabbed her bag and ran out of the common as soon as the portrait opened. She began hurrying to her first class. She looked at her watch. 

8:55 

She had five minutes before the class would start. She rounded the corner and popped her head in the door, scanning the room for any open seats. Ron and Harry didn't have a class this hour, so she couldn't hope anyone saved her a seat. Her eyes scanned the room frantically. 

Bingo!   
There was one empty seat in the back of the classroom.   
Halfway to her seat, she saw the unmistakable silver hair of her new desk mate.   
Malfoy leaned back in his seat casually; his legs were stretched out and crossed in front of him. He turned his head ever so slightly and looked at her out of the corner of his eye but otherwise faced the front of the room.   
"Blimey, you were so late that you had to resort to sitting next to a war criminal. Tut, tut Granger, not very 'Head Girl 'of you, now is it?" Malfoy said in a low, husky voice as he chuckled.   
"I was, in fact, late; why else would I be voluntarily sitting next to you?" She said, gritting her teeth as she bent down to retrieve her supplies out of her bag.   
"Oh, my dearest Granger, you wound me," Malfoy said, feigning hurt.   
There was a small moment of silence before Hermione spoke, "You never answered me last night." She said sheepishly in a quiet voice.   
Malfoy tensed suddenly; he opened his mouth, but Professor Merrythought interrupted him before he could get a word out.   
"Welcome to Defense Against the Dark Arts!" the middle-aged witch said, "I know that doing offensive and defensive spells in light of recent events could be... troubling for some of you, so I've decided to take the first week of this course easy. For today, you and your desk partner will be discussing offensive spells and the best way of countering them. But without wands!"   
"You'd think we were a bunch of naïve first years," Malfoy whispered to her.   
Hermione snorted, "maybe she thinks it will make us feel better for almost dying four months ago," she whispered back.   
"Maybe we should sit around and talk about our feelings. 'Hi, I'm Draco Malfoy, and I almost died last semester, but I returned in hopes to not do that again this term!'"   
They both started giggling quietly. They both got a couple of queer looks from the rest of their classmates. After all, they were sworn enemies, giggling like lovestruck first years. They stifled their laughter and tried to focus on the rest of their lesson without much luck. Before they knew it, the class was over, and they were on to the rest of their studies.   
The day ended promptly enough. Harry and Ron both had classes with Hermione after the 1st hour. They used their first hour as their 'free period' for Quidditch. Hermione used hers for homework.   
She and Malfoy had nearly identical schedules, and Hermione noticed that he sat alone in the back every class they had. He isolated himself from all of the other Slytherins, which Hermione found strange. But she eventually shrugged off and tried not to worry about what Malfoy did with his life unless it had something to do with her own.   
After dinner, Harry and Ron suggested that they all go back to the Gryffindor common room to play a game of wizard cards with the rest of their house. Hermione agreed but said she couldn't stay long, she had a full night of rounds to do, and she couldn't be late. They spent the first part of the night talking about their summer. Harry held Ginny close as they played.   
There was a brief moment of silence before anyone spoke.   
"So how about this marriage law, eh?" Seamus Finnegan said   
The room was uncomfortably quiet until Ron stood up abruptly.   
"I think we should fight the Ministry on this! It's unfair and barbaric! We aren't cattle, we took on the Dark Lord, saved the Wizarding World, and this is how they repay us? This is how they show us their thanks? We should have a choice in this!" He ranted.   
There were a lot of echoes in agreeance, nods of the head, and whispers. He had a good point, but the Ministry did have a decent argument. The wizarding population had gone down nearly 53% in the last 30 years, and it showed no signs of stopping in its steady decline.   
"Ron, there isn't anything we can do about it," Hermione said quietly.   
"Of course, there is! We can fight them!" He protested   
Ginny buried her head into Harry's chest. They were probably terrified out of their minds. They both decided they wanted to get married after the war, but it might never happen with this law in place.   
"Ron, we may have won the war, but we've lost this battle already."   
Everything was quiet until Hermione stood up and brushed herself off.   
"Well. I have to get going. I will see all of you tomorrow, eh?"   
The boys looked disappointed but understood. Hermione had a lot to do this year, mostly since she was Head Girl. She made her way back to the Head dormitory to finish things up before she had to go on her rounds. When she opened the portrait door, she saw a unique sight.   
It was Draco Malfoy, sitting on the floor in front of their coffee table, completely ignoring the perfectly good couch behind him, drinking a glass of something Hermione didn't immediately recognize. His hair was messy, and his tie was crooked. The first five buttons of his dress shirt were open, giving a nice view of his chest once again. That's the second time Hermione saw Draco Malfoy's bare chest within the last 32 hours. She could get used to this. She squinted, trying to see what he was drinking.   
"Are you drinking Firewhisky Malfoy?"   
Draco looked up.   
"Oh, hullo gorgeous, "he slurred faintly, "fancy seeing you here." 

Oh, gods. This was going to be an exciting night, that was for sure.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matches are made and clothes come off

CHAPTER 3:   
"Are you drinking Firewhiskey Malfoy?"   
Draco looked up. 

"Oh, hullo gorgeous," he slurred faintly, "fancy seeing you here."   
In front of Hermione Granger sat a half-dressed and tipsy Draco Malfoy.   
"Good Godric, Malfoy! What are you doing?!" Hermione shouted.   
"Isn't it obvious?" he slurred, "I'm enjoying my last days as a bachelor! Soon, I'll be married to a wife that hates me!"   
"Malfoy, what makes you think your match will hate you?"   
Malfoy looked up at her miserably.   
"Because everyone hates me, I'm an ex-Death Eater. I'm a murder." He said solemnly.   
Hermione didn't know how to respond.   
"BUT," he said with faux enthusiasm, "I'm also worth 750,000,000 galleons. After dearest Auntie Bella died, mother got all of her money, making the Malfoy's the richest family in the wizarding world. I'm such an eligible bachelor to bag!"   
She moved closer to him and sat down next to him. She could smell the Firewhiskey clinging to him.   
"Malfoy, just because you've made some pretty terrible decisions doesn't mean your match will hate you."   
He stared up at her. "I let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts that day. I cursed Katie, poisoned Weasley, and used an unforgivable. I'm not a war hero like you; I'm a villain. I hate me. She should too."   
Draco's word hurt Hermione's heart. Despite all of the prejudice, bullying, and harassment he put her through for eight years, she felt terrible for him. He was just a kid in the middle of a war; they all were. Children shouldn't have to make those decisions; they shouldn't have their youth and innocence stolen by extremist groups or Dark Lords; they should enjoy their lives.   
"You were just trying to protect your mother and yourself; you did what you had to do."   
"I am the reason 50 students died."   
"You're the reason we won the war."   
Malfoy looked up at her, curiously, "what do you mean?"   
"If it weren't for you that night at Malfoy Manor, Voldemort would've killed Harry onsite. You told him that it wasn't Harry, but you knew it was. You lied, knowing that he would've killed you without a second thought, but you still did it. Without Harry, we would've lost the war; without you, we would've lost Harry. That makes you as much of a hero as he is; you don't realize it yet."   
Malfoy was silent as if he was trying to recall what happened because he didn't believe what she was saying.   
"I let my Aunt torture you."   
"That doesn't matter compared to the grand scheme of things."   
"But it matters to me."   
Hermione sighed; she knew that it was pointless to argue with someone as stubborn as Malfoy, and the alcohol was making it much worse. She was only wasting her breath and wandering around in circles. She stood up and offered Malfoy her hand. He looked up at her and reluctantly took it. She used what strength he had to hoist him to his feet. As soon as he was upright, he stumbled as he attempted to make it up to his room.   
"Oi! Not so fast, Malfoy, you are going to end up breaking your bloody neck if you keep it up," Hermione said.   
She draped his arm around her shoulders and began half dragging/ half-carrying up the stairs. He was thin, but he was still tall and muscular, making him difficult to carry on her own. She managed to drag him to the bottom of the silver staircase on the right. She looked up the stairs and sighed.   
"Malfoy, I'm going to need you to co-operate with me, okay?"   
His only response was a mumble.   
Well, this was going to be an absolute blast.   
She heaved with all of her strength and managed to get Malfoy up the first step. Then the second. Third. Four-.   
THUMP!   
'So much for not breaking your neck,' thought Hermione.   
Malfoy had slipped from her grasp and landed at the bottom of the staircase. She needed to work on the whole medi-witch thing. She walked to the bottom step and began the entire process of half dragging/ half carrying an intoxicated Malfoy up the steps until she managed to get to the top of the stairs. She had made it to his room and magicked the door open. His bedroom was a replica of hers, only adorned in the Slytherin colors. She flung him down onto the large bed, almost falling to the floor in the process. Malfoy landed on the bed and groaned. He attempted to stand and was wobbling like a toddler learning to walk.   
"Oh no, you don't," Hermione said, placing her hands on his chest and pushing him back onto the bed.   
"Granger, I'm trying to take my bloody shoes off," he slurred in an annoyed tone.   
Hermione sighed, "I'll take off your bloody shoes; just sit your arse down!"   
Malfoy sighed out of annoyance and flopped down onto the bed. Hermione began taking his shoes off. She managed to get his shoes off and look up just in time to see Malfoy tugging at the remainder of his shirt buttons in an attempt to rid himself of the garment.   
"You're going to rip it or break your buttons, whichever happens first."   
He looked up at her with a smirk. He splayed his hands in front of him as to say 'I surrender.'   
"Well, you are more than welcome to undress me if you'd fancy," he said smugly.   
Hermione could feel herself turn bright red. "And what makes you think that I'd fancy that?"   
"Oh, nothing you're just too prude even to attempt," he slurred obnoxiously.   
Hermione was naturally ready to prove the git wrong, so she started carefully undoing the last few remaining buttons on his dress shirt. She managed to get the garment off of his body and finally threw it to the side.   
"What were you saying, Malfoy?" She challenged.   
Malfoy looked at her. He had a faraway look in his eye, and she could tell he was deep in thought, contemplating something. He looked torn and troubled like he wasn't sure he would make the right decision. He reached a handout and cupped her cheek, pulling her face in close with his.   
His lips were surprisingly soft and gentle. They moved slowly and timidly on hers as if they were unsure of the situation in the first place. Hermione closed her eyes and responded to him. She loved how they felt; soft, warm, and caring. They held no resemblance to the character he had played for the last seven years of their lives. She forgot for a moment who he was and who she was. But naturally, all things come to an end.   
She pulled away, not knowing what to say—not knowing how to feel. Was she supposed to be shocked? Happy? Repulsed? And Godric forbid, excited.   
He looked up at her. "I shouldn't have done that."   
"Malfoy, you're drunk. Go to sleep," she said quietly.   
"Such a Gryffindor Princess, always expecting to get what you want."   
"And you're such a Slytherin Prince to expect any different," she said, getting up and leaving the room.   
"Goodnight, Malfoy, "she said before shutting the door and returning to her bedroom for the night. 

SEPTEMBER 5th 

The next few days of classes passed uneventfully, the 7th years all growing anxious for the day they would undergo the charm that would match them into a forced marriage that would last for at least the next eight years of their lives. Ginny and Harry were the worst. They had planned to get engaged and married following graduation, but since this law's placement, all their dreams might come crashing down.   
The day had finally come. Both nervous 7th year graduating classes filed into the Great Hall. Once inside, they were greeted by rows of chairs and a few representatives of the Ministry of Magic. The Minister himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt, newly-appointed head of the International Magic Law Office Percy Weasley, and Advisor to the Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge.   
Once everyone was seated, they began calling names by row.   
"Hannah Abbott!"   
The blonde rose uncomfortably from the first chair in the front row and began timidly making her way to the stage.   
The Minister instructed Hannah to hold out her hand. The Minister waved his wand and pointed it at the palm of Hannah's hand.   
"Par mihi!"   
A bright golden glow emitted from the end of Shacklebolt's wand, and Hannah flinched slightly as if it hurt. He closed Hannah's hand into a fist as if to contain the golden glow from the spell. He moved her hand over to a parchment piece and positioned her hand a few inches from it. He instructed her to open her hand, and golden wisps of magic sunk into the parchment and glowed.   
"Neville Longbottom!"   
The room was silent until Fudge started clapping, and the rest of the room joined in awkwardly.   
"Blaise Zabini!"   
Silence   
"Padma Patil!"   
Applause.   
"Parvati Patil!"   
Silence   
"Seamus Finnegan!"   
This godawful process was continued.   
"Ginevra Weasley!"   
Ginny anxiously made her way to the stage and underwent the charm.   
"Harry Potter!"   
Ginny's face lit up, and a small smile formed on her lips in utter relief. Hermione was glad her friend's world wouldn't come crashing down as hers' was about to.   
"Ronald Weasley, come forward."   
Ron sat pale-faced in the chair next to Hermione, not wanting to move. He willed his legs to work as he made his way up finally.   
"Pansy Parkinson!"   
Ron looked dumbfounded as his classmates clapped.   
Hermione didn't need her name called for her to rise from her seat and make the agonizing walk to the stage. She thrust her hand out to Minister Shacklebolt with an angry look. She practically threw her and at the parchment.   
The golden wisps began forming words on the paper; they swirled until the shining letters spelled out a legible name.   
"Draco Malfoy," the Minister announced with a slight hint of pity in his voice.   
Unlike the other students after their matches, there was no applause, only silence.   
Hermione's eyes met Malfoy's in the crowd. His expression was a mix of anger and remorse. More bitterness than anything else, but he looked like he wasn't surprised or shocked in the slightest.   
"You knew!"   
Hermione was shouting.   
"You knew this entire time it was me, and you didn't say a word! You ferret!" She yelled as she stormed off the stage towards him.   
She pulled her wand and pointed it at his face, "Give me one good reason I shouldn't hex you into the next week! One reason!"   
Malfoy looked blankly at her.   
"Expelliarmus."   
Hermione's wand flew from her hand straight into Draco's; she hadn't even seen him take out his wand. He slowly approached her as if she was some wild animal, and based on her level of anger; she wasn't far from it. He put his hands on her shoulders and restrained her from hitting him.   
The entire Great Hall was silent as they watched the exchange, too shocked to attempt to stop her, as well as too scared.   
It only took her a few seconds to calm down. She looked at him, her eyes full of angry tears.   
"I hate you." She whispered, full of quiet rage.   
"I know."


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione threatens the patriarchy

CHAPTER 4   
"I hate you." She whispered, full of quiet rage.   
"I know.   
Malfoy didn't blame her in the slightest. He would hate her too if she knew ahead of time, and she didn't give him at least some kind of warning. The Ministry had threatened to send him and his mother to Azkaban if he refused to work on the project or disclosed any information he had learned about the Ministry's plans. They had been in the works of this marriage law for years; they didn't have any reason, or rather excuse, to institute it in the first place. The war's ending and the numerous casualties had made for a perfect scapegoat for their little plan.   
Draco, being very skilled in charms, wandless magic, potions as well as Occlumency and Legilimency, seemed like a perfect candidate to work on the required charm. That and he was desperate enough to take on the Dark Mark to protect his mother, so what other lengths was he willing to go to protect dear old Mum?   
Draco remembered the conversation as if it were yesterday. 

-FLASHBACK: MAY 4th 1996-   
"Mr. Malfoy, what lengths would you go to to keep your mum safe?" Asked Minister Shacklebolt.   
"What sort of a person would ask that kind of question?"   
Malfoy was seated in some holding room in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement located on the 2nd floor of the Ministry of Magic in Westminster. He was sitting in front of a small table in a bland room.   
"The same person who requires a specific skill set, and of course, the same people with a sizable amount of leverage to either condemn you to Azkaban or let you walk away a free wizard."   
"So, the same person who is willing to blackmail a teenager?"   
Shacklebolt grimaced and took a seat in the corner of the room.   
"Your birthday is on June 5th, if I am not mistaken?"   
Malfoy nodded suspiciously.   
"Making you 17 in 32 days, which in turn makes you an adult in the eyes of the Wizarding World. I could either persuade a 16-year-old boy, or I could throw an adult into Azkaban. Or at least, that's the way I see it.   
Malfoy sighed. He knew he had been backed into a corner and had run out of options.   
"What do you need me to do?"   
"Mr. Malfoy, the Ministry needs you to do a great service to the wizarding world. We need you to come up with a charm that allows two individuals to be matched to one another based upon compatibility, intellect, and other key factors for a romantic relationship."   
"You are threatening me with Azkaban to create a charm so you can play matchmaker?" Malfoy asked incredulously.   
The Minister sighed. "I need you to help us create a way to match wizards and witches for marriage law. The Ministry also lacks the funding to do so. When the richest witch in the wizarding world, your Aunt Lestrange, died, the entirety of her fortune was left to her sister, Narcissa Malfoy. Since you are the man of the house, that makes you the richest man in the wizarding community."   
Malfoy leaned forward in his seat. "It would, wouldn't it? You see Minister, the only problem with that is the Ministry kindly froze my family's assets in Gringotts, making me poorer than the Weasleys." He sneered.   
"That can be easily undone. If you cooperate with us."   
"Why me of all people?"   
"You're bright, you have the funding, but most importantly, Mr. Malfoy, you're desperate enough."   
"What if I agree? Then what happens?"   
"Simple: you and your mother stay out of Azkaban. We will hold your trial on the 7th and sentence you and your mother to a probationary period. During that period, you will be working closely with the Ministry to develop the charm until August when the Wizengamot revisits your case and decides whether to allow you back to school. The outcome of you and your mother's retrial in August will depend on if you are successful with the charm or not."   
"Is three months even enough time to work on a charm?"   
"Let's hope for your sake; it is Mr. Malfoy."   
Draco sat there in utter shock. This whole proposal was madness. But he was desperate. He put everything on the line for his mother, and he didn't want his efforts to go to waste. If he failed, they went to Azkaban. On the other hand, if he refused outright, they would end up in the same place. At least with agreeing, he gave his mother and him some chance.   
"And what happens to my mother during those three months?"   
"Rest assured; she will be allowed back to Malfoy Manor and taken care of."   
"I'll do it."   
-PRESENT DAY-   
Hermione sat miserably at a table tucked away in a corner at The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, drinking a mug of warm Butterbeer.   
She felt awful, absolutely terrible. She wasn't ready to even get married in the slightness, much less the Malfoy. Other girls eyed her in jealousy in the hallways that night. Yet, Hermione was possibly one of the only witches that didn't think the idea of becoming the heiress to the Malfoy fortune appetizing. She had no desire to step foot back into that wretched manor, much less live there.   
The other problem was the children. She didn't want to put her career on hold to have children with a man she didn't love. It wasn't that Malfoy wasn't good looking; he was a handsome wizard; she didn't want him.   
This whole thing was an outright mess. She wanted nothing to do with it with him. And to make matters worse, he knew that he was her match, he knew, and he didn't even say anything to her. He knew that it was her for possibly months now; he created the bloody charm for Godric's sake!   
Hermione groaned and placed her head in her hands. She looked up to see Ginny, Harry, and Ron, all walking towards her. They sat down across from her. No one said anything for a good while until Hermione finally spoke up.   
"Why didn't he tell me! Why didn't he warn me ahead of time!" Hermione retorted.   
"Maybe so you didn't murder him in his sleep to get out of an arranged marriage," Harry said   
"I won't let you marry him, Mione, I won't," Ron snarled.   
"Ron, I don't think she has much of a choice. I don't think they gave him much of one either," Ginny said   
"What do you mean?" asked Ron   
"Well, it's not like he chose Hermione, and he probably didn't say anything because he couldn't," Ginny replied   
They all funnily looked at her.   
"I mean think about it, if Malfoy told anyone about this whole marriage law thing, wizards and witches would probably try to stop it. The Ministry most certainly doesn't want another war on their hands. I find it quite strange that Malfoy would even want to keep things quiet in the first place."   
"That's probably because he didn't want to," Hermione said, raising her head from her hands, a mischievous glint in her eyes.   
"What in the bloody hell are you talking about, 'Mione?" Ron asked   
"Say what you will about him, but Malfoy wouldn't want to keep his mouth shut about it. Maybe someone forced him too."   
"Why would someone force him? He's just a prat, nothing more to it."   
"Maybe to protect someone?" Ginny chimed in   
Hermione stood up from the table abruptly. "I will see you tomorrow."   
"Oi! Where in the Seven Hells are you going?" Shouted Harry   
"To get some answers!" Shouted Hermione as she ran out of The Three Broomsticks and made her way back to the castle. 

HOGWARTS   
Hermione practically ran through the portrait door of the Head's Dorm. The entire room was dark except for the lit fireplace and a few candles. Hermione looked around the dim room to find him lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling as if he was having some existential crisis. He raised his head slightly to look at her and returned to his original reclined position.   
"What do you wa-"   
"Did the Ministry force you to keep quiet?"   
Draco sat up straight quickly and looked at her with wide eyes.   
"What did you just say?"   
Hermione took a step closer, "did the Ministry force you to keep quiet about the marriage law when you found out?"   
Draco sighed and swung his legs off the couch so that he was in a normal sitting position.   
"Granger... it's complicated."   
"Well then, uncomplicate it!"   
"It's not that simple." Draco sighed   
"Did they or did they not Malfoy? Just answer my bloody question!" Hermione said angrily   
"Yes and no. Yes, they told me that I wasn't allowed to say anything about it. But I didn't figure it out. The Ministry told me about the law months ago."   
Hermione opened her mouth, her eyes wide with so many questions. Draco raised a finger in the air to silence her before she began assaulting him with questions.   
"I was the one who made the charm. I didn't have a choice. I'm sorry."   
"What do you mean, you didn't have a choice! You always have a choice! You just made the wrong one and feel bloody awful about it!"   
"Granger," Malfoy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "it was either that or my mother, and I go to Azkaban for life."   
"What?"   
Draco sighed and ran a hand through his already messy silver-blonde hair.   
"The Ministry made me a deal a few days after the war: create the charm and help fund the marriage law, or spend the rest of our lives in Azkaban. I couldn't do that to my mother, Granger, not after everything I did during the war to keep her safe."   
"They threatened you? We can go to The Daily Prophet and tell them the whole story! We can make the Ministry dissolve this marriage law, we can-"   
"Granger, that's enough," Malfoy said sternly while standing from the couch.   
"Malfoy, we can use this as leverage against the Ministry!"   
"That's enough! You will do nothing of the sort!"   
"And why is that?" She challenged, closing the distance between them so that they were face-to-face.   
"You are to be a Malfoy; I don't need you going to the press to destroy what little honor is left to my family name!" Malfoy stepped back from her and turned away, not wanting to look her in the eyes.   
"Is that your argument? You would rather marry a mudblood than risk losing your pride?"   
Malfoy spun around, meeting her face-to-face to the point where their noses were almost touching.   
Malfoy raised his voice.   
"Because you are to be my wife, and it's my job to look after you! I'm supposed to take care of you, and I can't do that if you destroy what's left of my family name by declaring war on the Ministry of bloody fucking Magic!"   
"So, this is all just politics to you, Malfoy? Is that all you care about?" Hermione yelled back   
"No! I care about my mother and her safety, and I care about keeping my fiancée from getting avada'd!"   
"Fiancée? Since when did you earn the right to call me that? I don't see a ring on this hand, and you certainly didn't ask me for that matter!"   
"I don't recall you having much of a choice Granger!" Their noses were touching at this point, and they were both breathing hard from frustration.   
Draco grabbed her face with two hands, brought his lips down on hers, and began kissing h. A feeling overtook him, and for just one moment, they were two different people. Nothing mattered. They were stuck with each other, and they would have to deal with it.   
She didn't fight him; much to his surprise, she just tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his face closer to hers, his scalp stinging from how hard she was pulling his hair.   
He pulled away, breathing heavily, and looked down at her. She had swollen lips, and splashes of red began appearing on her face. Whether her coloring was from anger or embarrassment, he hadn't a clue.   
"You have no idea how much I hate you, "she said   
"That makes two of us Granger."   
He pulled her face close to his once more, their lips brushing against each other.   
"I'm going to make this work, Granger."


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco visits home

CHAPTER 5  
He pulled her face close to his once more, their lips brushing against each other.  
"I'm going to make this work, Granger."  
-DRACO-  
Draco had gone home to the Manor for the weekend to visit his mother. He stepped out of the Floo and into the study and brushed his robes off. His mother entered the room and threw her arms around her sons' neck.  
"Oh, how I've missed you," Narcissa sighed.  
She pulled away and studied her only sons' face. She frowned.  
"I take it things didn't go very well?"  
Draco shook his head, "it went as expected, maybe slightly worse."  
Draco sat himself down on the sofa and sighed, head in hands.  
"I don't have any idea how I'm going to make this work."  
"Don't force it, my child. Take things one step at a time. She is shocked and probably scared too." His mother said sympathetically.  
"I wish I could just start everything over with her, or at least find a way to fix this."  
Draco sat on the sofa for a good while until he finally thought of an idea.  
"May I have our family ring?" Draco asked his mother, standing up.  
"Darling, that ring is cursed, "Narcissa explained, "only a pureblood witch can wear it without dying."  
"Good thing the Ministry owes me a favor."  
Narcissa sighed and disappeared momentarily only to return with a small velvet red ring box. She delicately handed the box to her son. Draco opened the box and viewed his grandmother's ring. It was a beautiful, platinum filigree ring. It had a 3.5-carat diamond in the center; the detailed filigree pattern was set with countless other small diamonds. In other words, it was big, shiny, and nearly priceless.  
Draco snapped the ring case shut and tucked it away in his robes. "I will be back later this evening; I need to pay Shacklebolt a visit," Draco said, kissing his mother on the cheek before stepping into the Floo.  
He grabbed a handful of the fine powder.  
"Ministry of Magic!"  
There was a blast of blinding green light, and he found himself located in the Ministry of Magic. The building was abnormally slow, only a handful of wizards and witches walking about. It was also not surprising for a Friday afternoon. Draco made his way towards the Minister's office and found himself face to face with a small witch at the front desk. She reminded him of Umbridge, and he suppressed a shudder.  
"Can I help you?" the witch asked without looking up from her parchment.  
"I need to speak with Shacklebolt."  
"Do you have an appointment?"  
"No, I just n-"  
"You need an appointment to speak with him, have a nice day."  
Draco didn't move, "I'm not leaving until I speak with him."  
"The Minister is a very busy man, I'm sure th-" the witch looked up, "Oh! Pardon me, Mr. Malfoy! I will let Shacklebolt know you are here!" The plump middle-aged witch scurried up from her desk and disappeared. A few moments later, her head peeked out from behind a wall, and she motioned for him to follow her.  
Malfoy followed her to a set of frosted glass doors. The witch opened the door and motioned for him to enter. The witch shut the door behind him.  
Shacklebolt looked up from his glasses at the blonde and gently set his quill down. He folded his hands and placed them on the desk.  
"Mr. Malfoy, to what do I owe the pleasure?"  
"I need a Curse Breaker," he stated bluntly.  
The Minister raised his eyebrow curiously, "and why would that be?"  
"So, I can propose to my fiancée and have her survive."  
The Minister raised his eyebrow even more.  
"I happen to have a very racist and very cursed engagement ring."  
"Maybe you should try using a different ring, maybe one that's not prejudiced."  
Malfoy sighed, "it's a Malfoy family heirloom. I want to keep it in the family, and considering how my children will not be pureblooded, I don't have any other choice."  
"And why should I provide you with a Curse Breaker?"  
"Because I happen to be the one who not only funded but developed the curse that got me into this situation in the first place. And it's the least you can do for blackmailing me into doing the first part."  
Kingsley was quiet for what seemed like an eternity but, what could have only been a few minutes.  
"I think I can manage to sort something out with our curse removal department. I will send you an owl sometime later in the day with more information and get everything set up."  
Malfoy nodded and turned to leave the office.  
"and Mr. Malfoy?"  
Malfoy turned his head slightly over his shoulder to look back at the Minister.  
"I would highly suggest refraining from speaking like that to me in the future; remember who is the one in charge here."  
Malfoy said nothing as he walked out of Shacklebolt's office and made his way down to the Floo.  
"Malfoy Manor!" 

-HERMIONE-  
Hermione had Friday afternoons off. Draco did as well; luckily, he was nowhere in sight so that she could feel sorry for herself in peace. She flopped down onto her bed with a loud hmmph! And groaned loudly into her pillows. She rolled over and stared at the top of her beds' canopy.  
She was lucky to be marrying Malfoy, to be entirely honest. He was widely known as one of the most handsome and eligible men in the wizarding community. She would be wizarding world royalty, successful, not to mention filthy rich. She saw how the other girls eyed her jealousy in the hallway; despite his crimes and affiliation with Voldemort during the war, every girl wanted him. The only problem was that it was him.  
He had grown up from the child she had met during their first year, he had matured immensely after the war, but those seven years of torment and the scars from his aunt, both physical and emotional, were still fresh.  
And worst of all, she still wanted a normal relationship after all that she had been through. She wanted to date, fall in love, be proposed appropriately to. She knew she could have none of that with Malfoy; they were being forced together in some twisted game the Ministry decided it would be best that they use them as pawns.  
She wanted to scream; she wanted to cry. She wanted to go to the Ministry and tear it down one brick at a time. Maybe she could find some way to defy them once she began working with them proceeding graduation.  
Maybe  
She hoped that Malfoy didn't expect her to be a stay at home witch instead of going out and working. Or sleep in the same bed as him on a nightly basis. These were all things that needed to be worked out before they got married. She was slowly but surely accepting the life that had been placed in front of her, knowing there was no way she could change it. She didn't think that even after the war, she would still have to fight some battle.  
She flipped back over and buried her face into her pillow once more. 

-DRACO-  
"Mipsy!"  
A loud pop announced the arrival of the small female house-elf.  
"Yes, Master Draco?"  
Draco stood in the main hallway of his family manor, hands in his trouser pockets, staring at the array of family portraits.  
"I want you to move all of the portraits downstairs into the storage cellar and lock the door. Bring me the key once you are done."  
"Yes, Master," Mipsy squeaked.  
Mipsy began moving the various family portraits, ignoring their protests.  
"Draco, my love? What are you doing?" his mother asked curiously.  
Draco turned to see his mother with a puzzled expression painted across her face.  
"I'm moving the portraits so that they won't upset the new Lady Malfoy when she moves in."  
She stood next to her son and watched the portraits be moved.  
"To be honest, I don't think I will miss them," his mother said, "your great aunt Lyra was always a bitch."  
Draco turned to his mother and raised an eyebrow. She looked at him, "what? You know I am just being honest."  
"The next thing I am going to have to sort out is how to disable all of the traps in the manor as well as wards against non-purebloods." Draco ran one hand through his hair.  
"Do you think that the Department of Curse Removal could do that for you?"  
Draco sighed, "possibly, if only I knew what sort of curse was placed on the manor in the first place."  
"I'm sure we can find out,"  
"Winky?"  
A loud pop followed by a "yes mistress?" echoed through the now emptying hallway.  
"Could you please bring me Master Armand's notebook to me?"  
The small house-elf nodded and disappeared, only to shortly return with a little leather-bound journal. Narcissa handed her son the book gently. Draco looked down at the book in his hands.  
"This thing looks bloody ancient."  
"Oh, that's because it is, darling. It was your Grandfather Armand's from the 10th or 11th century; he is the one who built the Manor."  
"How is this thing so perfectly preserved then?" Draco asked, flipping through the pages.  
"My guess would be magic because, you know," Narcissa raised both of her hands slightly and gestured around the house.  
Draco had noticed in the short few months that his father had been incarcerated in Azkaban. His mother's personality had changed from a timid housewife to a strong mother with a fair amount of attitude. Draco liked seeing this side of his mother; she was so unfiltered and, quite frankly, entertaining.  
"Thanks, mother; I will have to look through this and see if it gives me any ideas."  
Draco proceeded to look at the new empty hallway wall. The portraits had been there so long that once removed, you could see where the previously hung due to the paint's fading. Draco frowned.  
"We will have to repaint that," Draco said  
"We will just have to redecorate," Narcissa replied, "it's too bloody dark in this house anyway."  
Draco was becoming more and more surprised at his mother each day. A small hand tugged on his trousers and broke his thoughts. He looked down to see Mipsy holding out a small skeleton key in her hand. Draco took the key and tucked it away in his trouser pockets.  
"Thank you, Mipsy; you're free to do whatever else you'd like today."  
Mipsy beamed and hugged onto his leg before disappearing.  
Draco made his way to his bedroom and over to an antique jewelry box on his dresser. It was a plain silver jewelry box that stood on four legs placed at each corner. It lacked decorations, save for the locking mechanism, a small snake curled into a Celtic knot with small emeralds for eyes. He pushed the small circle adorned with snakes in with his thumb, and the lid snapped open. The box was lined with purple velvet and filled with tiny treasures. A golden snitch, a bronze locket with the Malfoy Family Crest engraved on the front, a gold signet ring, and a small vial of a Draught of Peace. He gently placed the key inside and began closing the lid before he hesitated and eyed the ring. He shook his head and closed the top a little harder than he should have.  
A snowy owl had flown to his window with a piece of parchment. He opened the window and recognized the wax seal of the Ministry.  
Mr. Malfoy,  
Please bring your cursed object (s) to the Department of Curse Removal tomorrow at 9:00 am.  
Oh, joy.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco fights a racist ring and Hermione gets asked out

CHAPTER 6   
The Slytherin Prince had been awake since 6 am, leafing through the notebook his mother had given him the previous day for nearly 3 hours. The ink on the parchment was legible, but it seemed the farther and farther into the book he got, the more rushed the writing had become. His eyes scanned the page and eventually settled on a word that was unfamiliar to him.   
modo purissimum   
He had never even seen a spell or anything else like it before. He bookmarked the page and hoped that the Curse Breakers had some answer for him.   
Malfoy's travel to the Ministry was uneventful and even more tedious as he found his way to the Office for Removal of Curses, Jinxes, and Hexes. When he finally reached the office, he was greeted by a tall and fit brunette bloke. The lad stuck out his hand to Malfoy. Malfoy took his hand and shook it, antsy to get down to business.   
"I hear you have a racist engagement ring, eh?" the man said unironically, "Edmund Harper."   
"Draco Ma-"   
"I know who the hell you are, don't be modest," he grinned, "so where is this ring?"   
Malfoy's hand disappeared into his robes and produced the small red velvet ring box. He held it out to Harper. Edmund took it from him and gingerly snapped open the top and inspected the platinum ring. After a while, he set it down on a small table and pointed his wand at it, muttering various spells.   
"And uh, what level of racist are we talking about here, mate?"   
"Murder."   
Edmund seemed taken back at Draco's reply.   
"Well, I hear those love story diamonds are quite nice."   
"So, what I'm hearing is that you can't fix it?"   
"I mean, I suppose I could, but the problem is that I've never seen a curse like this one; it's barely detectible at that. If I knew what kind it was, I might be able to," Edmund said, scratching his chin.   
Draco remembered the notebook and pulled it out, flipping to the page he had bookmarked previously. He pointed to the unfamiliar words and held the book out to him. Edmund's eyes scanned the page and got a bit wider.   
"Oh boy, that's an old bugger that my mate is what we call a 'purity blood ward' if I'm not mistaken. Very old and hardly ever used anymore." Edmund pulled out his wand and waved it over the ring. It glowed a faint blue color, indicating that it was not a curse but a ward.   
"it's a bit strange to put a ward over a tiny ring, isn't it?"   
"Oh, but you see Edmund, that the ward is also surrounding my entire house."   
Edmund look horrified, "how long has it been there?"   
"My guess, ten centuries," Draco said dejectedly.   
"Well, I might need a bit of help, but I can do it for ya," he replied confidently.   
"And how long will that take?"   
"Oh, I can do it all today if you'd like me to. Let me do this ring first."   
Edmund spun around and aggressively waved his wand for what seemed like a solid 15 seconds. When he pointed his wand at the small box, a little blue explosion erupted from his wand and shot the box with the ring off of the table. The ring box was burning with blue fire.   
"Harper, what the fuck!" Draco yelled at the wizard.   
Draco rushed to pick up the ring to find that it was unharmed. He carefully closed the lid and slid it into his pocket, and eyed the wizard warily.   
"You're certainly not going to do that to my house, are you?"   
"Probably not," Edmund shrugged   
-MALFOY MANOR-   
Edmund and Draco reached the manor finally. Draco had learned a bit about the wizard and found that he was quite interesting. He is originally from Storrington but moved here after he graduated from Hogwarts. He was 22, and he lived alone; his previous girlfriend didn't fancy how dedicated he was to his curse-breaking job, which Malfoy also found out was quite a lot.   
"That's one large house, mate," Edmund said incredulously.   
"Thank you; it will be much more appetizing when we get these wards down."   
"Agreed"   
Edmund raised his wand and looked as if he was going to begin performing the charm. Draco immediately knocked the wand out of his hand.   
"Oi! Harper! Are you trying to kill my mum?" Draco asked incredulously.   
"I mean, I didn't fully plan on it," Edmund shrugged.   
Narcissa walked out of the manor and on to the well-manicured green lawn as if on cue. She greeted Edmund and her son. Draco introduced the two and began filling in his mother on the situation and their plan for dissolving the dangerous ward around the manor and the surrounding grounds. After what seemed like an eternity of Edmund coaching them on the correct pronunciation and wand movements of the complicated spell, they finally had everything in place for the spell.   
All three wizards took out their wands and began performing the spell around the house. Once they had completed the chant and pointed their wands at the manor, blue energy shot out from each of their wand tips and hit a now visible magic field around the house. The blue energy from their wands sparked on the domed enclosure around the house. Nothing seemed to happen for a few moments after until they noticed it slowly dissipating.   
It reminded Draco of how Hogwarts looked that night when the teachers and various other witches and wizards put up the wards to protect the students on the night of the battle, only backward this time. It had always looked as if someone was slowly burning a piece of parchment, or at least, that's what Draco thought.   
After the wards finally appeared to have dissolved completely, Draco turned to Edmund.   
"I think a team of Curse Breakers should inspect the inside of the Manor for more potentially dangerous objects just to be safe."   
Edmund nodded. "I can round up my team to come through tomorrow if you'd like, but they will probably raise a fit about being paid."   
"I can pay them 21 Galleons an hour, each if that works for you."   
"I think that might do. Draco, Mrs. Malfoy," Edmund said, tipping his head cordially. Edmund then apparated back to what Draco could only assume was the Ministry.   
Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair and sighed loudly.   
Narcissa put her hand on his shoulder.   
"Draco, is something wrong, my love?"   
"I'm nervous."   
"For what?"   
"Tonight, I'm going to propose to Granger."   
Narcissa scoffed, "are you afraid she is going to say no?"   
Draco shot his mother a look and shook his head.   
"No, I'm afraid that I won't be able to make her happy. Ever. I don't expect her to fancy me, but I at least want her to feel comfortable and not completely miserable. All of this is my fault, after all."   
Narcissa looked at her son; sadly, "you did what you had to do for your family. And even if the world won't remember you as a 'war hero,' I will forever remember you as my hero. You are my one and only son, and I couldn't be prouder of you," Narcissa kissed her son gently on the cheek.   
"Thank you," Draco said softly, looking at the ground.   
"Now," Narcissa said, fixing her son's collar, "you should be getting ready for tonight. I trust that you have something planned?"   
Draco grimaced, "I have a few ideas." 

-HERMIONE-   
Hermione Granger sat in the Library, running her hands through her hair. She had nearly forced herself to get out of bed this morning, not wanting to see anyone. The entire student population of Hogwarts either looked at her out of pity, jealousy, or discomfort. No one knew what to say to her, and Hermione didn't want anyone to feel obligated to say anything in the first place.   
It was already nearly 1 pm, and Hermione had only been half paying attention to what she was reading. She groaned and slammed the book shut. She made her way to the Head Dorms, defeated. Before she dramatically flung herself onto her bed, she noticed a tapping noise coming from her window. She opened it to find a beautiful eagle owl holding a package.   
"Thank you, "she whispered, feeding him a treat before he flew off.   
The package was black with a beautiful shimmering silver ribbon that Hermione could've sworn was made of real silver. The box was so beautiful; she almost didn't want to open it.   
Almost   
Her curiosity got the best of her, and she delicately opened the package. Inside was a short black cocktail dress. It looked formal, with its off the shoulder neckline and tulle design. It had long sheer sleeves, with delicate rose patterns embroidered on them. It was indeed a breathtaking and no doubt expensive dress. She noticed a note attached to it as well.   
Granger,   
I am taking you to dinner at five o clock. Please wear this. I trust you have suitable footwear.   
-D   
Hermione felt like calling him a prick for telling opposed to asking her to go to dinner, but the dress was stunning. It almost made her forgive him.   
Almost.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malfoy makes a dick joke and Rita Skeeter makes an appearance

CHAPTER 7   
Hermione Granger stood in front of her mirror, rotating and twisting, trying to decide if she liked how she looked. It was undoubtedly the most excellent dress she had ever worn, but she didn't necessarily enjoy the particular individual who had asked her to wear it. She sighed and brushed the nonexistent wrinkles out of it. It was 4:30, and Hermione had used half a bottle of Sleekeazy's and done her make up. She had to admit, she looked great and even felt a little bit excited. She knew that it wasn't a date per se, neither of them wanted to be on it, but it's the closest thing she ever had. Viktor and Ron hadn't counted; they never really went out and did anything. Hermione decided to pass the time by sitting in the Head's Common Room and reading her favorite book, Hogwarts: A History.   
After relaxing and reading for a while, Hermione heard the portrait door open and looked up over her book's pages to see Malfoy standing in front of her.   
Draco was wearing a black tailored suit vest with matching trousers. His white dress shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, and4 he was wearing a gold and silver watch.   
"Granger," he nodded politely as he gestured to the door.   
Hermione stepped out into the hall as Draco led her to Headmistress McGonagall's office. Once inside, they were greeted by the witch. She overlooked the two when they walked in; her eyes were fixed on the parchment in front of her as her quill scribbled across it.   
Draco cleared his throat, and she looked up.   
"Malfoy."   
"Headmistress. May we use the Floo?"   
She set her quill down, "Mr. Malfoy, we can give you special permissions to use the one in your common area as we discussed prior, so you don't need to continue to interrupt me," she said, her mouth in a tight line.   
Malfoy chuckled. "I think that's entirely up to her headmistress."   
"Is that even allowed?" Hermione asked, her eyes growing wide   
"With special permission Ms. Granger, almost anything is possible."   
Hermione nodded, "I think that could be useful."   
"Very well, as for the time being, yes, you may use mine."   
Draco entered the Floo first.   
"Diagon Alley!"   
Hermione followed him shortly after. She stepped out of the Floo as Draco held out his arm for her to take. She took it and followed him as he led her deeper into the alley.   
"Where are we going?" she asked cautiously.   
"Supper." He said bluntly   
"But where?"   
"It's a restaurant named 'The Silver Goblet.' Lovely place with fantastic food. At least, in my opinion."   
Hermione looked around and realized where she was. She planted her feet immediately and refused to move.   
"Granger, what in the seven hells has gotten into you?" Draco asked   
"I'm not taking another step forward. You think I wouldn't notice you taking me into Knockturn Alley?!"   
A look of realization flashed across Draco's face.   
"Granger, I'm trying to take you to dinner, not to your death."   
"I'm never going in there."   
"It's not like you haven't been here before Granger."   
Hermione was taken aback by his words and looked confused momentarily.   
"I knew you and the rest of your 'Golden Trio' followed me here during the 6th year. You're not the only clever one here."   
Hermione didn't say anything; she only stared back at him.   
"I know I've done some horrible things in the past to you and the rest of the wizarding world, but I would never put you directly in danger now. Times have changed."   
Hermione seemed to relax a little and continued to follow him; however, she didn't hold on to Draco this time. Instead, her hand hovered over part of her thigh, which he only assumed it was where she had hidden her wand.   
Eventually, the mismatched pair arrived in front of 'The Silver Goblet.' It was a luxurious European style restaurant that most definitely fell into the category of fine dining. The face of the restaurant was relatively open due to the glass front. A silver velvet curtain covered parts of said windows, but from what she could see from the dim candle lighting was spectacular.   
"Shall we?" Malfoy asked her cordially, seeming to ignore the argument they had previously had.   
Hermione nodded slightly, feeling a tinge of embarrassment for her accusation earlier in the night.   
Malfoy opened the door and motioned for her to enter. It was indeed a magnificent and beautiful restaurant, most likely the most beautiful one she had ever even seen. The waiter led her and Malfoy to a table in the restaurant's back, secluded and separated from the others by a silver velvet curtain. The table was lit with a candle, and several other floating candles above that reminded her of the Great Hall back at the school.   
"Mr. Malfoy," a tall brunette waiter said after they were seated.   
"Ice wine, Riesling, 1974 please Felix," Malfoy said to him.   
"Absolutely," the waiter who was now known as Felix to Hermione said as he turned on his heel and disappeared into the kitchen.   
"Ice wine?" Hermione asked   
"What about it?" Malfoy replied, raising an eyebrow   
"What exactly is it?"   
"A sweet wine. It's called ice wine because winemakers leave the grapes on the vine well into the winter so that the grapes are frozen when they are picked and pressed. It makes it taste sweeter. I chose the Riesling because I'm partial to the drier wine types," Malfoy replied casually.   
The waiter returned with the bottle of the white-colored wine and two wine glasses. They both thanked Felix as he poured both of their drinks and waited for him to leave until finishing their conversation.   
"I just never took you for such a wine expert," she said, taking a sip of the wine. He was right, it was rather sweet, and she enjoyed it.   
"Most people refer to that as alcoholism Ms. Granger."   
Hermione almost spat out her drink at his response and dabbed her mouth with the napkin.   
"Do you not like it?"   
"No, no, I do; I just didn't expect that response."   
Malfoy chuckled, "well, I could refer to myself as an oenophile, which is technically the proper term, but that sounded like too much of a fetish category, so I went with something else.   
"How do you know so much about wines? Especially considering you   
Malfoy shrugged a bit, "my mother signed us up for a wine tasting club once a week once I turned of age. It was a special thing we did to get away from my father."   
"Do you two still go?"   
"Not as much anymore, after the war especially. But every once and a while, we would have our house elf Mipsy bring us a bottle, and we would socialize or do something."   
Hermione's eyes widened at the mention of the word 'house-elf.'   
"You still have a house-elf?"   
"Yes, of course, we've had Mipsy since before I was born; all of the Malfoy children have had one to help take care of them."   
"You must be a fool if you think I will let you have a house-elf when we have children."   
"Are you suggesting we free Mipsy?"   
"Yes! She doesn't deserve to be a slave."   
Malfoy stared at her as if she had grown another head, "I suppose that argument is for a later time."   
Felix returned before Hermione could say anything else about the matter.   
"Have any decisions been made?"   
"Yes, I think that we are just going to stick to the 3-course meal as opposed to the seven tonight, Felix. Can I get the fillet minion for the main course, and we'll have whatever the special for dessert is tonight if that's alright?"   
Felix only nodded in reply, "and for you, miss?"   
Hermione looked at him, not quite sure what to say.   
"Uh..."   
"It's alright, Granger, get whatever you'd like; this is my treat," Malfoy said encouragingly.   
"Um, may I please try the ravioli in the white truffle sauce?"   
Felix nodded once more and returned to the kitchen.   
"White truffle? I wouldn't expect something that bold with you."   
"I've never tried it. Quite frankly, I'm not even entirely sure what I just ordered."   
Malfoy looked at her and raised an eyebrow yet again.   
"To be honest, Malfoy, this is the nicest place I've ever been; it's rather fancy and something that is very out of my price range."   
"Price is not a concern of mine, and in a few months, it won't be a concern of yours either. I would also get used to it here; we will be eating here a lot in the future for our weekly dates."   
"Weekly dates?"   
"Yes, my father might have been a monster, but my mother taught me how to treat a lady. I intend to use those lessons on my future wife, whether I have a choice in marrying her or not."   
Hermione didn't quite know what to say.   
"We haven't talked about the, erm, arrangements of our marriage yet. Like where we are going to live or how we will parent or-"   
"We will be living at the Manor."   
Before Hermione could reply, Felix placed the started salad in front of her. They remained silent during the first course of their meal until the main courses they put in front of them. Hermione took a bite of her ravioli.   
"Oh!"   
Malfoy looked up at her, "do I need to send it back?"   
"Oh no, it's delicious!"   
"I'm glad," Malfoy said, grinning.   
They finished the rest of their meal in silence, save for the few comments about their food. Once they were finished, the tables were cleared, and the check was signed, Draco finally spoke.   
"Granger, I brought you here for a reason," he reached into his trouser pocket and produced the velvet box containing his family's no longer racist ring and dropped to his knee in front of her.   
"Hermione? Will you marry me? Please say yes, so we both don't get arrested."   
"You and I both know we don't have any other choice," she said grimly.   
Draco snapped open the ring box, and her eyes widened at the sight of the ring. Draco gingerly took it out of the box and placed it on her ring finger before kissing her hand softly and standing up. He offered her his arm.   
"I have someone I would like you to meet."   
Hermione was speechless as she stared at the ring, mesmerized by the sheer size of it.   
"It's so big."   
Malfoy giggled sheepishly, "unfortunately, it's the only big family jewels that I have."   
"What is that supposed to mean?' She asked as they made their way into the Floo.   
"Never mind, Granger, maybe I'll tell you when you're older. Come on now. I'd like you to meet my mother."   
"Malfoy, I know exactly what the joke meant; I just never thought I'd hear you admit you had a small pe-"   
Draco immediately cut her off. "Malfoy Manor!"   
The pair disappeared in a cloud of green smoke.   
The two were so deep in conversation that they hadn't even noticed the flashing lights of a camera and the sound of a scribbling quill echoed throughout the alleyway, as the famed Queen of Quills drank in every last detail of the shocking engagement of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy had unfolded before her.   
Rita Skeeter had gotten herself quite the story.


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Narcissa burns it down and Hermione makes the front page

CHAPTER 8   
Hermione stood in the study of Malfoy Manor in awe of what she saw. Countless rows and rows of giant bookshelves full of books. A couch in the corner next to a perfectly placed window, as well as candles to light the room. What caught her eye the most was a beautiful mahogany wood French roll top desk with a matching chair. She began to take a step out of the Floo until Draco stopped her.   
"Be careful what you touch, Granger," he warned.   
"Why?"   
Draco didn't know for sure what cursed objects, more specifically books, remained in the library; the curse breakers would be over in the morning to make sure the manor was clear.   
"Just do as I say for once?"   
Hermione ignored his comment and circled the study admiring it. It was as impressive as the one at Hogwarts, just on a smaller scale.   
Narcissa Malfoy strolled into the study with a martini glass full of Gin.   
"Oh, dear! I didn't even hear you two come in! Mipsy," she snapped her fingers, and the small house-elf appeared with a loud popping noise, "could you please our guests a drink?"   
Hermione had opened her mouth in protest, but Mipsy had disappeared before she could say anything. Malfoy could see where this was going.   
"Granger, I assure you, Mipsy does not mind working here in the slightest. She would be heartbroken if we freed her."   
Hermione put her hands on her hips, "I doubt that Malfoy."   
When Mipsy returned, Draco looked at the small house elf.   
"Mipsy? How would you like to be free?"   
Mipsy started wailing and pulling at her large bat-like ears, her wide eyes glistening with tears. 

"Nooooo Mipsy does not want to be free! Mipsy is a good house-elf! Mipsy loves her Masters and Mistresses!"   
She ran to Draco and began hugging his legs, her face buried in his trousers' fabric. Draco stuck a hand out to comfort the house elf.   
"Mipsy, we won't free you. I was trying to help Ms. Granger understand that you enjoy it here."   
Mipsy hiccupped, "Mipsy likes it here very much. Masters and Mistress treat Mipsy very nice."   
"Mipsy, that will be all. You can take the rest of your night to yourself," Narcissa said to her.   
Mipsy nodded and was gone with a snap of her fingers and a POP.   
There was an awkward silence that hung between the three of them before Narcissa spoke up.   
"Well! Welcome to our home, Ms. Granger! I assume my son is showing you around your soon-to-be home?"   
Draco cleared his throat, "Granger, and I haven't discussed whether or not she will be living here. It's up to her."   
Hermione looked between the two of them, her eyes wide.   
"I don't think it would be a good idea. Given the events that took place in the east wing," she said uncomfortably.   
Narcissa waved her hand, "then we will just tear it down."   
"Excuse me?" Hermione and Draco both said in stunned unison.   
"Hermione dearest, come with me." She held out her hand to the young witch. Hermione took it awkwardly, unsure of the entire situation. Narcissa led the two towards the east wing of the manor, a glass of Gin in her left hand and Hermione in her right. She stopped in the doorway of the drawing-room, where Bellatrix Lestrange tortured her in an attempt to get information out of her. She shuttered and clutched at her arm, still remembering the pain she had caused. Narcissa dropped Hermione's hand and pulled her wand from her robes.   
"Confringo!" She yelled, pointing her wand at a random piece of furniture. The chair exploded in response. She turned to face Hermione.   
"Go on now, dear, try it!"   
Hermione and Draco stood there in silence as they watched the armchair burning. Neither of them knew what to think. Had Narcissa Malfoy finally flew off the handle and decided to destroy the furniture in her house? Should they stop her? Should they help her? Should they ignore it and blame it on the Gin? All were equally acceptable choices to make; they were unsure which story others would be the most convincing when someone began asking questions.   
Draco was the first one to pull out his wand after several minutes.   
"Confringo."   
-ONE HOUR LATER-   
The three wizards stood there, staring at the ashes of what was once the furniture and decor of the Malfoy Manor's drawing-room. Narcissa was wearing a smile, while the other two had a look of both shock and mild confusion painted across their faces.   
"Mother? What in the bloody hell?" Draco asked, "what did we just do?"   
"What? We are redecorating, and quite frankly, I've wanted to do that for years now," she turned to face her son and cupped his cheek with her hand, "I would burn this entire house to the ground to scorch out the memories of your father, but the moments of you growing up in this manor stop me every time. I just had a better reason to destroy this one." Without turning back and looking at the room, she raised her opposite hand and closed it into a fist. The destroyed room collapsed onto itself with a cloud of dust and a low rumble. She smiled at her son and exited the room.   
Hermione was the first to break the silence.   
"I didn't know your mother could do wandless magic."   
"Neither did I."   
"I think it's time I go back to Hogwarts."   
Malfoy nodded silently and walked her back to the Floo. He watched her grab a fistful of the powder and step inside.   
"Hogwarts Head Common Room!"   
-THE NEXT MORNING-   
The next morning Draco awoke to sunlight streaming into his bedroom windows. He rolled over to look at the small clock that sat on his nightstand.   
8:00   
He groaned and rolled out of bed. The curse breakers would be arriving soon. He showered and dressed and began making his way down to the kitchen. To his surprise, when he opened his bedroom door, he saw several ministry workers bustling around his house, using magic to levitate random objects into various large black chests. One of the wizards dropped an item a bit too hard into one of the chests and caused a small explosion. The chest started on fire in a shower of sparks.   
"Oi! Do you even know what you're doing! Bloody hell!" Malfoy yelled.   
"What in the gods is going on over here," a familiar voice snapped, "Evans! Use your bloody Head!"   
Draco turned around to see the one and only Edmund Harper yelling at his fellow curse breaker for his ignorance. Evans blushed and extinguished the flames with a simple spell, running off before Edmund could yell at him again.   
"Harper! Good to see you again, mate," Draco said, holding out his hand to the wizard.   
"Likewise," he grinned, "sorry about my colleague, most of these blokes are gits with nothing between their ears. Things would be handled much differently if I was the one in charge here."   
"you're not?"   
"No, I'm still waiting on that promotion; it's been a few years, and Shacklebolt hasn't given it to me yet."   
"Oh?"   
"Yeah, I've even designed new containers for cursed items as well as several charms. Unfortunately, I very much lack the galleons to back it up."   
Draco thought for a moment. Edmund was an excellent curse breaker, very dedicated to his job, and a natural-born leader. If anyone should be leading the division, it should be him.   
"I'll tell you what, if you show me what you got, we might be able to strike up a deal. Are you busy next Saturday?"   
"I am now," Edmund said, grinning.   
There was a crash from somewhere down the hall and the sound of shattering glass.   
"I swear I will make your life hell Evans!"   
Malfoy would have to talk to Kingsley about a few things the next time he had the displeasure of meeting with him. Malfoy made his way to the front yard of the manor. The tulips were in full bloom, thanks to his mother's magic. It was a rather beautiful morning; the sun was shining, his racist house was getting cleaned out and half destroyed. His mother was eager for the last part; she was currently trying to get ahold of some interior decorator to help her redecorate. Malfoys thoughts were interrupted by his eagle owl, dropping a copy of The Daily Prophet in front of him. Much to his surprise, the front page was pasted with a picture of him and Granger in Knockturn Alley shortly after their engagement.   
Gold-digging Granger Bags a Malfoy!   
Malfoy skimmed the article.   
Hermione Granger, a former romantic interest of the famous Harry Potter, has managed to steal the heart of another well-known wizard, Draco Malfoy. Granger has a history of going after the Wizarding World's most wealthy and eligible bachelors, chasing galleons and power. Will the heir to the Malfoy family fortune discover her motives, or has love blinded him?   
Draco snorted; what a ridiculous article. Anyone with half a brain could recognize that although the pair didn't loathe each other as much as they once had, they didn't get along. His eyes skimmed down to the bottom to see who had written such ludicrous statements.   
By Rita Skeeter   
"Bloody hell," he whispered under his breath; he should've known. Rita Skeeter had always had some disdain towards her ever since the Tri-Wizard Tournament. She had left her alone for a good bit, up until now, that is.   
"Mipsy!"   
The house-elf appeared with a loud pop.   
"Send a letter to my lawyer."   
-Hermione-   
Hermione was sitting in the Head's common room with her friends, playing a wizard chess game with Ron. She was currently winning. Harry was sitting on the couch watching the two, commentating. Hermione had given Ginny and the boys the password to the portrait in case of emergencies. Now, the three of them often came down to see Hermione after class or during a break.   
"Ron, you could've taken her knight. Now she is going to use her rook to take yours."   
"Shut up, Harry! You're distracting me! I have a plan!" Ron snapped back at him   
"Was your plan to lose miserably?"   
They were interrupted by Ginny rushing into the room. She flung a copy of The Daily Prophet onto Hermione's lap.   
"What is this?" Hermione asked   
"Read the title. It looks like our little friend is back at it again." Ginny said, clenching her fists angrily.   
Gold-digging Granger Bags a Malfoy!   
"That witch!" Hermione said, jumping to her feet. Her friends and housemates already knew she was engaged and had seen the ring. She had decided not to wear it unless she was out in public or around the Ministry members. She didn't want to normalize arranged marriages or support them, but she also didn't want to start another war with them either.   
"What are we going to do?" asked Ginny   
"I'm... I'm not sure. Is there anything we can do?"   
"Surely, there has to be something," Harry said with Ron nodding in agreement.   
They were all so concerned and caught up in their conversation that they hadn't noticed the portrait door open. Malfoy strolled in; The Prophet clutched in his hand. He leaned up against the door frame casually, watching the scene in front of him unfold.   
"You got her to stop once before, 'Mione; you can do it again, right?" Ron asked   
"It's already been taken care of Granger. I had Mipsy contact, my lawyer." Malfoy drawled causally   
"Bugger off, Malfoy! You're probably the one who paid Rita to write the article!" Ron yelled   
Malfoy sighed, "And what would I gain from that Weasel?"   
Ron's face turned bright red, and he balled his fists.   
"I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you, Ferrett."   
Malfoy took a step closer to him.   
"Or what? What would you possibly do about it?"   
Ron took a step forward as if he would hit Malfoy before his sister grabbed him by the shoulder.   
"Good choice," Malfoy said dryly. He walked past the group and glanced at the chessboard.   
"Oh, and Weasel? I believe that's checkmate," he mocked as he made his way up the stairs.   
"Draco Malfoy!"   
Malfoy stopped as the voice of a furious Hermione Granger echoed across the room. He turned around and raised an eyebrow at her, knowing against his better judgment that it would probably make things entirely worse.   
"Can you try and be civil for one moment!"   
"Sorry, no can do Love. Your pet here has quite the temper, and I don't like it."   
"You are such a prat! How can you go from being tolerable one moment to a loathsome, pathetic, spoiled little brat?" she shouted.   
Malfoy took a step off of the stairs, "excuse me? I'm the one being the prat? You have been nothing but insufferable since the day we got here! One moment you play nice; the next, you flip it around and become an absolute hag! I have tried my best to get along, to be nice, to make this unfortunate engagement as easy for you as possible, and you, in turn, make my life a living hell!"   
Hermione turned as red as the Weasel's hair, and you could practically see the smoke coming out of her ears.   
"Oh, I'm so sorry that I didn't react well to being forced into a marriage with you! It must be so much easier for you, considering you have known about this whole predicament and partnership for probably months now! But you're correct, why shouldn't I fancy an absolute wanker of a man trying to make up for nearly eight years of torture with a dinner!"   
"You should be glad I'm even trying at all! I could be trying my best to make this as awful as possible for you, but instead, I'm trying my best to make this work! I apologize they don't make a self-help book titled How to Make a Nightmare of a Woman Your Wife in Ten Easy Steps!"   
"You're only trying Malfoy because you don't want to end up in Azkaban like your father!" Ron yelled   
"RONALD!" Hermione yelled   
Malfoy's head snapped to the Weasley, his eyes burning in a fury, "get the fuck out of my room, all three of you."   
Harry, Ginny, and Ron all stood there, watching Hermione and Draco stare each other down. Hermione finally turned her head and nodded at the trio, motioning for them to leave. They hesitantly agreed and shuffled out of the portrait door and into the hallway.   
"You're a git, Malfoy."   
"You're a know-it-all witch."   
"You're like a dog with two dicks."   
"Don't be jealous just because you are a prude virgin."   
Hermione crossed her arms, "I'd much rather be called a prude than like yourself who goes around shagging half the woman in the school."   
"You think you are so much better than everyone else Granger, just because you are 'the brightest witch of our age' or some shit, doesn't make you above anyone else. You are in the same boat as the rest of us, no special treatment because you saved the world."   
"You're such a git."   
"A rich, successful, handsome sex god of a git nonetheless."   
"Oh, fuck you!"   
"Trust me, Granger, I know you want to," Malfoy turned and walked back up the stairs, not looking back at the fuming woman at the bottom of them.   
"What a lovely girl," he mumbled to himself.


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco just wants a drink

-CHAPTER 9 -   
Draco Malfoy stared at the ceiling of his dorm room. He was almost too furious to sleep and had been lying in the same position for the last several hours contemplating the things that had been said earlier in the evening between him and Granger. He had tried his best to make things work but lo and behold, the insufferable smart-arse of a witch had made it difficult to hold a halfway decent conversation once again. He hated arguing with her because she was one of the few people in this world that could keep up with him. He hated that. He practically hated just about everything about her. And to think he went to all of that trouble to clean out his house of cursed family heirlooms to keep her safe. She would be living with him because he refused to allow his children to grow up in two households. He wanted to be just as much of an active part in their lives as she was, and he didn't want their childhood to include traveling back and forth between the manor and god knows where Granger would be living. He was also fairly certain the Ministry would have a conniption at the mere idea of it.   
He wanted to build something new for himself and his mother and re-forge the Malfoy family name. He wanted to create something that did some good rather than some evil. And that's precisely where Edmund came into play. With Malfoy's money and inclination to develop new spells and charms and Edmunds knowledge and prototypes for curse breaking, they could build a company that would do great things. He had a nearly perfect business plan, and the idea of starting over made him want to start everything right away. He unfortunately still had several more months of school left even though he had gotten over halfway through his schooling last year before Voldemort had attacked. Maybe there was a way to convince the Ministry to develop some plan for the students affected in the previous year.   
Malfoy tossed again in his bed. All he wanted was for everything to be over and for his life to start. Something to go according to his plan, something he wanted. He sat up and groaned. He decided that it would be a good idea to venture down to the small kitchenette located downstairs in the common room before he attempted to sleep. He contemplated throwing on pants or a nightshirt before leaving but decided against it. He hadn't heard the Gryffindor Princess leave her room since she had slammed gone to bed a few hours ago, so pajama pants it was. He padded down the stairs towards the kitchenette, a Lumos charm cast on his wand for light.   
His luck was to find Granger sitting on the counter, drinking a mug of something in a nightgown. She turned red upon seeing him enter the room. But her being the person she was, refused to move or leave.   
"Do you mind, Granger?"   
"Do you mind, Malfoy?"   
Malfoy sighed, not wanting to fight, "Granger, I'm just trying to get some water."   
Hermione, still furious from previous events, still wouldn't budge.   
"Practically naked? Hmph. Not much to see anyway, Malfoy."   
'Alright, you want to play this game then?' Malfoy thought   
"Fine, Granger, you win." Malfoy stepped closer to her and reached for the cabinet right behind her. They were practically nose to nose now as he slowly opened the cupboard and reached for a glass.   
"Aguamenti," he said softly, pointing his wand at the glass.   
Hermione turned even redder, but she stood, or rather sat, her ground and refused to budge.   
"Do I make you nervous, Granger?" Malfoy whispered in her ear, setting the now full water glass off to his right. Malfoy heard her take a sharp breath before replying.   
"No."   
He put his hand on her knee.   
"What about now?"   
"The opposite."   
Malfoy raised an eyebrow in question. Hermione reached her hand out and laid it on his bare chest.   
"Am I making you nervous, Malfoy?"   
"The opposite, Darling."   
She put both of her hands on his chest. He retaliated by sliding his hand up the inside of her leg, stopping at her upper thigh.   
"I can't bloody stand you, woman," Malfoy said   
"Likewise."   
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, so their lips were almost touching. She could feel his hot breath and soft lips on hers. She closed her eyes, and just for a brief moment, for only one second, she imagined that they were two different people in a different timeline. That they didn't hate each other, that they weren't about to be forced into a relationship that was now well-publicized in tabloids. And she wanted to kiss him again. She wanted to feel something other than frustration and anger directed at the Ministry, and that damned Rita Skeeter. She wanted her life back; she wanted to rebuild everything that Voldemort and his followers tore down. She wanted Fred, Remus, Sirius, and Tonks back. She wanted a world that she wanted to be a part of proudly; she wanted to be a part of something bigger, something in her control for once. She wanted things to be different.   
Malfoy moved his hand to her hip, not breaking eye contact with her.   
"Thanks for the water Granger," he said, reaching for the cup he had set on the counter off to his right. He turned around and walked back to his room without looking back. She wanted to break every glass in that cabinet. She hated whatever internal struggle she was having; it was a battle she was for sure losing, no matter what outcome she wanted. She signed and looked at the floor. She hopped down off the counter and went up to bed. She needed to get some decent sleep if she expected herself to get anything done. 

-THE NEXT MORNING-   
Draco could already tell by the direction his morning was heading, he would not be immensely enjoying his day. Between spilling a glass of pumpkin juice on his shirt this morning and his mismatched socks, he didn't know if he should even bother showing up to the first period. He decided against skipping and walked into the potions room, setting his bag down next to Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and the rest of the Slytherins in the back row.   
"Rough morning, Drake?" Blaise asked, shooting him a smirk.   
"Something like that," he mumbled.   
"Is it because your fiancée is only in it for the money?"   
"Gods, I wish. That woman is insufferable no matter what I do."   
"Don't hold your breath, mate; we have this class with the Gryffindors today."   
Draco groaned and laid his head down onto the table. The class was full at this point, signaling for Professor Slughorn to begin.   
"Today, we will be brewing a potion from the Advanced Potion-Making textbook," he said, "some of you may remember making this potion during your 6th year. Since it was only a select few of you, all of you will be participating this time, however. Today's potion is the Elixir to Induce Euphoria. Since this potion is rather difficult to brew, you may choose to pair up or on your own. However, if you do choose to pair up, it will have to be with someone of my choosing."   
Many of the students groaned in response to that last part because this was one of the more challenging potions to brew.   
"Does anyone wish to work alone?"   
No one raised their hands. That wasn't particularly shocking.   
"Wonderful!" Slughorn said, clapping his hands together   
"Potter, you are with Mr. Zabini. Ms. Parkinson, you will be with Mr. Weasley. Neville with Ms. Greengrass. Mr. Malfoy with Ms. Granger."   
Bloody buggering fuck.   
"Seamus with Mr. Nott."   
Slughorn kept going until everyone had been paired with someone of the opposite house.   
"Go ahead and get started, everyone! You have one and a half hours to complete the potion. The pair with the least amount of side effects gets extra credit!" Professor Slughorn said with more enthusiasm than Draco wanted at that moment. Malfoy groaned and hit his head on the table once again.   
"You okay, Drake?" Blaise asked   
"No. I'm hoping to hit my head hard enough that I die and can avoid this entire situation. Possibly knock me out, but that is less than ideal."   
"Malfoy, if you are done being a drama queen, I'd like to start our potion."   
Draco lifted his head from the table and saw Hermione standing in front of him with her arms crossed. He groaned again, remembering their previous fight. He stood up and started grabbing ingredients while she grabbed stirring rods, a cauldron, and various other supplies. Draco began skimming his copy of Advanced Potion-Making and got to work.   
"Add Shrivelfig until the potion turns turquoise." Malfoy dropped the Shrivelfig into the cauldron and waited for the change.   
"Stir until it turns blue," Malfoy began stirring before until Hermione grabbed his hand.   
"What are you doing?"   
"Making a potion, Granger, what does it look like?"   
"Like you're doing it wrong. Here do it like this," she grabbed the rod from his hand and began stirring it in the opposite direction. The potion turned blue, and she removed the rod.   
"We have to wait 8 minutes for it to turn yellow. Make sure it's simmering too."   
After a while, the mixture turned a sunshine yellow, signaling that it was time to add the Porcupine quills. The mixture then turned blue. Draco read over the rest of the potion again.   
5\. Allow the potion to simmer for 12 minutes until it turns purple.   
6\. Stir four times anti-clockwise.   
7\. Add seven Sopophorous beans.   
8\. Allow the potion to simmer for 17 minutes until it turns brown.   
9\. Add shrivelfig until the potion turns pink.   
10\. Allow the potion to simmer until it turns orange.   
11\. Add Wormwood until the potion turns yellow.   
12\. Stir six times anti-clockwise.   
The potion had just turned pink, and Draco realized it was nearing the end of class. He wasn't concerned; they still had just enough time to finish without rushing. Granger grabbed a handful of Wormwood and was about to add it to the cauldron before Draco grabbed her wrist.   
"Let go of me, you prat!" she hissed.   
"No! You're about to botch the potion, Granger!"   
It was too late, though; she had already let some Wormwood drop into the cauldron. Draco noticed the potion bubbling aggressively and pulled Hermione into his chest as he tried as best he could to shield Hermione from the exploding cauldron. The pink liquid went flying everywhere. It was in his hair, her clothes, on the ceiling, and had transformed into some horrendous green goo in the bottom of the cauldron. To put it simply: it was a royal mess. This, of course, sparked yet another argument between the two that went on until Professor Slughorn interrupted them.   
"Both of you will be serving detention for being negligent to your potion, causing this awful mess. You will meet me here tonight at 6:00 pm to clean this entire room and scrub all of these cauldrons. I have to say; I am both surprised and disappointed in your behavior. Class is dismissed."   
Unfortunately for them, Slughorn only taught potions once on Mondays, meaning this whole mess would be left for them to clean up. They both angrily grabbed their bags and headed to their next class. Draco breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that his next class didn't include Granger, giving him the perfect opportunity to cool down.   
Class finished for the day, and 6:00 rolled around quite promptly for the two. Draco made his way down to the potions room, and unsurprisingly, Granger was already standing there. Early as usual. Before Draco could open his mouth to make a snide, offhanded comment, the door opened, and Slughorn greeted the pair. He motioned for them to come inside.   
"You two will be cleaning this entire room, top to bottom, as well as cleaning all of the cauldrons. The cleaning also included the supply closet, so be mindful and careful when it comes to the dusting. When you are finished, ring this bell three times," he reached into his robes and pulled out a small silver bell and handed it to Hermione, "I will also need both of your wands, and don't even think about attempting wandless magic. I bewitched the room so you can't. All of the cleaning supplies you will be needing are over on that table," he held out his hands, and the two of them placed their wands into his hand. They stood there, awkwardly.   
"I suggest getting started."   
Slughorn exited the room, and they hear the door lock behind him. The two of them were locked in a room without magic for what they assumed were the next few hours of their lives. They scrubbed the walls and the floors as well as dusted the ingredient cabinet. All that was left was the cauldrons. They sat down at a table with their scrub brushes and got to work in silence. About 30 minutes in, it was Draco who finally said something.   
"Look, Granger, I'm sorry I raised my voice at you. I was only trying to prevent," he motioned around the room with his scrub brush, "this."   
Hermione didn't say anything; she just continued to scrub away at her cauldron, attempting to rid it of the foul green goo that was caked to the bottom. Draco threw his hands in the air.   
"Granger, I'm trying to be civil. But every time I do, you make things worse or just ignore me completely. I've spent so much time on you and trying to make this whole mess work for you not to reciprocate it. I'm done with you and all of this; you're just a selfish bitch who thinks she all that just for saving the world."   
Hermione turned to him, furious. She stood up from her chair abruptly and put her hands on her hips. Draco did the same, not knowing what to expect next. She jammed her finger into his chest.   
"You have no idea what this is like for me. I had dreams and plans, and now I have to throw it all away to be some sort of trophy wife and sit on my arse all day long."   
"Who said anything about you being a trophy wife?"   
"Oh, don't give me that rubbish. I don't want to be a Malfoy housewife."   
"Granger, I don't expect you too! Where did you even get that idea! I assumed you were going to work for the Ministry following graduation."   
"I thought I was too until this marriage law came about. I don't know if I want to be working for the people who forced an arranged marriage law."   
"You can work for me."   
"No."   
Draco raised his hands in exasperation. "I seriously can't win here. You're such a hag."   
"Shut up!"   
"I'm telling the truth! You're difficult just for the sake of being difficult!"   
She grabbed him by the tie and pulled him closer. She surprised herself when she kissed him. Not in a bad way but not in a good way either. She was surprised that Malfoy didn't shove her away or protest; he only returned the favor by threading his fingers through her hair. He eventually untangled his fingers and grabbed her by the hips, lifting her. In turn, she wrapped her legs around his midsection as he moved the cauldrons to the side and set her down on the table. He grabbed her face and continued to kiss her fiercely. He didn't want to stop, so he didn't. She started tugging his vest over his head, and she did shortly after. She loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. She laid her hands on his bare chest as he slowly leaned her back onto the tabletop. He pulled away and brushed a stray piece of hair from her forehead. His thumb stroked her cheek gently as he looked at her. The clock in the corner startled the two of them, and they broke apart. It was already 8:00, and they still had a few more cauldrons to do before they could head back to the dorms. Hermione cleared her throat and smoothed out her shirt as Draco silently buttoned his shirt and tugged his vest back on. He straightened his tie, not making eye contact with her. They finished the rest of the cauldrons without a word and rang the bell, signaling to Slughorn that they had finished.   
Once they had their wands back, Hermione practically ran out of the room to the head's dorms. Malfoy looked around the room and sighed. He shoved his hands into his trouser pockets and headed towards the Slytherin dorms. He was surprised to see Blaise still up, reading a book on the couch. He looked up at Draco and then returned his gaze to whatever he was reading.   
"Rough night?" he asked without looking up from his book again.   
"Can you tell?"   
Blaise looked up at him and scoffed, "your hair is sticking up in several directions, and your shirt is buttoned crooked. It reminds me of the first night we snuck in a bottle or 3 of Firewhiskey and partied. So yeah, you look a bit, rough mate."   
Malfoy chuckled, "that was quite the night if I remember correctly."   
"I'm surprised you even remember at all. I think that was the night you lost your virginity to... oh, what was her name?"   
"Vanessa," Draco responded quietly, almost remorseful.  
"Ah, yes, that was it. Those were the days, weren't they? I take it you've been having Granger problems?"   
Draco took a seat on the couch and ran a hand through his hair, "Yeah, I just need a way to get her off of my mind. I wanted to make things work in the beginning, but I slowly realize it's just easier to forget about it until the wedding."   
"well, let me know; I know of a few witches that would love to help," Blaise said, grinning.   
"Noted," Draco said, grimacing slightly.   
"I'll leave you to it, mate," Blaise said, shutting his book and heading up to bed.   
Draco curled up on the couch, not wanting to think about anything. He finally drifted off to sleep after lying there for a while.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has a few flash backs and Hermione extends the olive branch

-CHAPTER 10-   
Draco woke up the next morning on the couch in the Slytherin common room. He sat up and stretched his back, already feeling the deep ache in his muscles. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, remembering last night's events.   
"I'm done with you and all of this; you're just a selfish bitch who thinks she all that just for saving the world."   
Draco winced, remembering the harshness of his words towards the Gryffindor Princess. He hadn't meant them, at least, not all of them. He had to admit that he was over the game that they had been playing. He knew somewhere in his heart that he would never win her favor, nor would she be happy with their marriage as long as she was married to him.   
He hoisted himself up from the couch and made his way back to the Head's Dormitory. His hands were shoved into his trouser pockets, his head down, counting his steps. He struggled to understand his feelings as he muttered the password to the portrait door. It swung open with a loud creaking noise.   
There was no sign of Granger in the living area, meaning she was somewhere else or hiding up in her room. Either way, he was glad. He didn't want to see her. He didn't want to have anything to do with her right now; he needed a break. He flopped himself down onto the couch and sighed, staring up at the ceiling, wishing that maybe the castle would give him some answers. When that didn't work, he decided that perhaps the answer would lie at the bottom of a glass of Firewhisky.   
He walked over to their kitchenette and reached for a glass. The glass slipped from the cupboard and fell. He attempted to catch it before it made contact with the counter, only making things worse as it shattered into a million jagged pieces. He felt a sharp sting on the palm of his left hand. He looked down at the long cut that was now actively bleeding quite a lot. The blood dripped down his arm, and his eyes wandered to the ugly Dark Mark that was etched into his skin. He watched the blood drip down the tattoo as he felt an unpleasant memory tickle at the back of his mind. He tried to prevent it from rearing its ugly head without success. 

"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer, Dumbledore said, smiling softly at him.   
"How do you know? You don't know what I'm capable of, "you don't know what I've done!"   
These words echoed in his head with an unwillingness to be ignored or pushed to the side.   
He remembered Dumbledore's voice as they stood there in the tower that night. He spoke so mildly, it was almost as if he knew what the outcome of that night was before it happened, and he had accepted it. He sounded like he had seen the future and had made plans. It was only later, during the battle when he had learned the truth. Dumbledore knew he was dying and had arranged his death with Snape. That was the most unnerving thing about that night, the look in that man's eyes and the tone of his voice when faced with certain death. 

"It's you who should be scared!" He yelled, pointing his wand at the old wizard   
"But why? I don't think you will kill me, Draco," the headmaster replied wisely. 

He felt himself shaking. He had to grip the counter to keep himself upright, which proved difficult because his hand and the bar were wet and slick with blood.   
"Well done, Draco, well done!"   
That was the day the world practically ended. The day that one of the best headmasters Hogwarts had ever seen was killed. That was the spark that had started the wildfire of the Second Wizarding War, the day Voldemort had infiltrated Hogwarts. And it was all his fault; he was the reason it all happened. 

"Severus…please…" Dumbledore pleaded   
"Avada Kedavra!"   
Draco shut his eyes tightly, trying to block out the memory of the green flash of light.   
"Harry Potter is dead!"   
He remembered how small Potter looked cradled in Hagrid's arms that day. It was in that instant that he remembered: they were all just kids. Kids were fighting, dying, and suffering in a war that should've ended before it had even started. It was at that moment; Draco came to terms with everything that he had done. It wasn't like he had much choice in doing it in the first place or had he even wanted to, but he didn't even realize the things he had been doing to keep himself and his mother alive at his father's expense.   
"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."   
Draco felt his stomach drop to the floor once again. He remembered the Dark Lord's words, saying he would "attend" to after he had killed Potter. Draco knew deep down that it meant he would kill him. He remembered the panic on his face when Potter told him that he had overpowered him weeks ago, that he had lost, the Elder Wand belonged to Harry Potter. He was going to lose, and he knew it. Potter inevitably would best him once again.   
"Avada Kedavra!"   
"Expelliarmus!"   
He recalled the relief that washed over him as Voldemort's body crumpled to the ground, unmoving. His father had gathered both him and his mother. They were huddled in the corner of the Great Hall, listening to Lucius as he muttered frantically to them.   
"We will claim we were all Imperiused; we can clear our family name after the trial," his father said   
Narcissa drew her arm around her only child and held him close, a gesture that Draco took much comfort in.   
"No."   
"Excuse me? We have no other choice! We will all go to Azkaban and receive The Kiss if we don't! We can claim we were forced, make up some rubbish tale averting the blame from us! We can move to our cottage in France, all three of us, and start over!"   
"The only person going to Azkaban, Lucius, is you," Narcissa said   
"Narcissa-"   
"You dug yourself this hole and drug the two of us into it. You put my child in danger. You tried to ruin our lives as we blindly followed you. I don't care if I get locked away; Draco will not be a part of this whatsoever. Take your wand and shove it straight up your arse Lucius."   
Draco was pulled from his memory when he felt something touching him. It was a soft and gentle touch, rubbing his back. It was something his mother frequently did to him when he was a child to soothe him. She did it a lot during the war too.   
"Malfoy?"   
He looked over his shoulder to find that the hand belonged to Granger. Her eyes were wide and full of concern.   
"What on Earth did you do?" she said quietly.   
"I-I-I broke a glass."   
Draco looked down to see that the counter was now slick with his blood; it was smeared along his arm on his Dark Mark as well as on his hand.   
"I didn't realize...." he muttered, staring at his hand.   
He turned back to face her. She looked scared.   
"Malfoy, are you okay?"   
That was what finally broke him. Those four simple words, words he hadn't been asked since before the war. Words he never thought he would hear again. He was a war criminal. He was a murder. He was a liar, a thief, and a coward. He made a charm to force shell-shocked children into a mandated marriage for the sake of saving his hide. He walked around, acting as if the past was behind him, as if he was coping like all of the rest of his classmates when, in reality, there was barely a day that went by where it didn't cross his mind. Some days were better than others; some days, he could push them to the side before they overtook him like the one had minutes before. He was a monster. He deserved Azkaban, and he earned worse. But instead, he was fighting for a new life, a new beginning that he didn't deserve.   
"Granger I-" was all he could say before he felt the tears begin streaming down his face.   
He grabbed her without thinking and pulled her close as he began to sob, loud, ugly sobs that wracked his body. He couldn't feel his legs, and he was sure that if she weren't there, he would inevitably collapse. He sobbed until his throat felt as if it was bleeding, and his eyes burned. He could barely breathe as he felt the weight of his past bear down on him and crush the air from his lungs. He gripped the back of her shirt to keep himself from falling.   
Draco had no idea how long he had cried for; he only knew that his voice was practically gone and that he felt awful. He finally pulled himself away from her and, with his right hand, gently cupped her face. He looked her deeply in the eyes. They were wide and full of bewilderment.   
"Granger, I am so sorry," he rasped out as best he could.   
"Don't be."   
Draco was taken back by her reply, "What?"   
"Malfoy, I forgave you long ago."   
"Why?" he croaked out.   
"You and your family are the reason we won the war. I mean, if you think about it."   
"How?"   
"You knew it was Harry when we were captured and brought to the Manor, but you said you didn't know. Your mother lied and said that Harry was dead when she knew he was alive. We couldn't have won if Harry had been killed either of those times; it's thanks to you that he survived that." 

He sniffed loud and detached himself from her, only to set himself onto the couch and was wracked with another set of sobbing. He buried his face in his hands. He felt the couch dip next to him as she sat down next to him. To his surprise, she pulled him close and laid his head down in her lap, gently stroking his hair. It was a comforting gesture, human contact. His father hadn't been the best at showing any affection, and her touch was far different from his mother's.   
He liked it.   
He wanted to feel it every day for the rest of their lives.   
He knew he couldn't make her happy. He tried not to think about it; he only relished the moment they lived in now.


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco talks to a painting

-CHAPTER 11-  
He knew he couldn't make her happy. He tried not to think about it; he only relished the moment they lived in now. 

Their moment unfortunately only lasted for a moment before she pulled away from him. She didn't make eye contact with him; she only wordlessly walked towards the kitchenette and pulled her wand out, pointing it towards the shards of glass.   
"Reparo."   
She then turned to the counter and muttered a cleaning spell before pocketing her wand silently.   
He opened his mouth to say something to her but was cut off by her walking up the stairs. He tried so hard so many times not to get too close or to even make things right. It was starting to sound like a broken record of sorts, annoying and predictable. He needed a break, a night away from all of the chaos.   
He made his way down to the Hospital Wing, knowing full well he could mutter a spell and fix his cut. He only needed a break from her.   
"Mr. Malfoy?" Madam Pomfrey looked at the young wizard, her face concerned.   
"I cut my hand; I'm fine," he said   
"I see that. I'm only curious as to why you are here," she said, pulling out her wand and grabbing his hand gently.   
She pointed her want intently at the cut . ; not looking up at him, she said: "this looks like a laceration that you and I both know you are more than capable of healing on your own."   
He didn't look up at her, "maybe I wanted your company."   
She laughed dryly and put her wand away, looking pleased with her work.   
"Everything will work out, Draco," she said to him.   
Draco wouldn't meet her eyes as he rubbed the new scar that appeared on his palm.   
"Thank you," he said, turning on his heel and exiting the Hospital Wing.   
Draco shoved his hands into his pockets and wandered the corridors. He didn't particularly feel like going anywhere besides the library, but he figured Granger had already claimed that space by now. So, he just wandered. His feet subconsciously took him to the Headmaster's office. A lump formed in his throat. He had a burning desire in his heart for months now. He gave in to his impulsive desires as he approached the stone gargoyle that stood guard to the stone staircase.   
"Lemon Drop."   
The sound of stone grinding on stone rand through the empty tower as the staircase appeared in front of him. He entered the office. It had remained unchanged since Dumbledore had died, and McGonagall had taken over as Headmaster. Even Fawke's cage sat empty in the corner, the door left open as if McGonagall had any shred of hope he would one day return. He grimaced, remembering the day Fawke's flew away and the sound of his lament ringing in his ears.   
It had been his fault the phoenix had escaped; it was his fault Dumbledore was dead. He shook those thoughts from his head again, focusing on his reason to be here.   
His eyes scanned the room and fell on to one portrait in particular. His Godfather's   
Severus Snape.   
Snape's portrait had appeared in the Headmaster's office shortly after he died. McGonagall and Potter wanted it moved into the gallery, but that caused quite a bit of an uproar, so they decided to wait on it a bit.   
"Draco," he heard the portrait drawl.   
"Snape."   
"What brings you here, in this office of all places?"   
"I wanted to speak to my godfather. I wanted to thank you for protecting me, for upholding my mother's promise. For everything," Draco said, exhaling audibly.   
"Your aunt Bella made sure that it was impossible to break the said promise, Draco."   
"You still could've said no to my mother's initial request."   
Draco knew full well of the agreement between the two, as well as the Unbreakable Vow. His mother told him after the war when he was discovered to be dead.   
"Of course, I couldn't have! You're my godson for Salazar's sake!"   
Snape hadn't been the warmest godfather, but he was the best Draco had ever had; Draco missed him every day. It was the first time he had gone and seen him since he had died. Potter was kind enough to let him know both the whereabouts and existence of the portrait in the first place.   
"I heard of your predicament with Ms. Granger. I am truly sorry that you had to be roped into this silly marriage law."   
"It's my fault the law exists in the first place."   
Snape raised an eyebrow before Draco recounted the events following the battle and his involvement with the law and the charm.   
"I see," Snape said after he was finished speaking.   
"She hates me even more now. She isn't going ever to forgive me, and this marriage isn't ever going to work."   
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself and find another way to fix it, Draco. You're better than this."   
Draco knew Snape had a point; he just wasn't sure how to do that.  
"How will I do that? I've told you I had tried everything!"   
"And how am I supposed to know the answer to that? Hmm? I might possess the ability to read minds Draco, but I do not claim to know much about witches. All I know is that I made the mistake of letting my temper get the best of me, and I lost a very important witch in my life due to it," he said frowning.   
"What, witch?"   
"That is no concern of yours," he said before his portrait froze again, ending their conversation.   
Draco sighed and spun around, getting ready to leave before a voice called out to him and stopped him in his tracks.   
"Mr. Malfoy?"   
Albus Dumbledore had always had a mysterious twinkle in his eyes when he was alive. His portrait did that twinkle justice.   
"Headmaster?"   
"What seems to be the trouble, Draco? You look unwell."   
Draco stood there, frozen in place, not wanting to move. He felt as if he had seen a ghost, and he had a familiar ache return to his chest.   
Regret.   
"Headmaster... I am so sorry."   
Dumbledore looked puzzled, "And what for?"   
"I-I-I killed you."   
Dumbledore chuckled as if Draco had told him a joke.   
"My dear boy, you are not the cause of my death."   
"I am still the reason you are dead, and for that, I am truly sorry."   
"Don't apologize for that! After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next greatest adventure. I told young Mr. Potter that same thing many years ago. Please don't dwell on it, my boy. Besides, I think you best be going; I have a feeling your friend Mr. Zabini has other plans for you soon," he said, winking at him before going still just as Severus did.   
Draco felt as if he was leaving more confused rather than with answered questions. He decided to heed Dumbledore's advice and make his way back to the head's dorm. He mumbled the password and stepped inside.   
He stood there, lost in his thoughts of the events that had transpired in the last few months.   
The familiar tapping noise of an owl at his window broke the spell of him being sorry for himself. He immediately recognized the owl as one of Blaise's. He gave him a treat as he took the parchment from him and sent him on his way.   
Meet me in the dungeons at 6 pm. Dress to impress   
~B.Z.   
Dress to impress? What the hell did that even mean?   
He scoffed, unsure of how to respond, but knowing, either way, Blaise wouldn't take no for an answer. Draco looked at the clock.   
5:30   
Damn! How long was he talking to the portraits?   
He quickly showered and threw on some lovely attire, an outfit similar to the one he wore on his and Hermione's date to The Silver Goblet. He hurried down to the dungeons, not wanting to keep Blaise waiting. Once he arrived, He saw a few of his old mates dressed similarly.   
"Malfoy!" Blaise said, clapping him on the shoulder.   
"Zabini, what the hell are we doing?"   
"My dear Draco, we are going clubbing!"   
"Where on earth are we going to go clubbing?"   
Blaise grinned, "A new club called The Snake just opened up in Diagon Alley, and we," Blaise motioned to the group, "are all going. What do you say?"   
Draco looked at him. He was tired of feeling sorry for himself; he was tired of only thinking of Hermione 24/7. He missed the person he was before all of this. The man who was named The Slytherin Sex God, the man who knew how to party. The man who hadn't yet seen the terror of war or murder. The man who wasn't a criminal.   
"What the hell, I'm in."   
-Gryffindor Common Room-   
Hermione was slumped across the couch, pretending to read, trying to forget the last 24 hours and the events that had transpired between her and Malfoy. She tried to get rid of the memory of whatever had stirred in her when Malfoy kissed her during detention. Unsuccessfully, of course. She groaned and laid the open book across her face, half hoping the pages would smother her, and she would never have to see him again. She heard the portrait open but didn't bother looking up. She felt something being thrown at her. She sat up and admired the red dress that Ginny had thrown at her.   
"What is this?" She asked   
"It's what you're wearing tonight. A new club opened up, and we are having a girl's night. You're coming."   
Hermione opened her mouth to decline before shutting it again. She was tired of her pity party and thinking of Malfoy. Besides, she didn't want to go home and see him.   
"What the hell, I'm in. What club is this?"   
"It's called The Snake."


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bar fights and one night stands

-CHAPTER 12-   
"What the hell, I'm in. What club is this?"   
"It's called The Snake."   
-DRACO-   
The club was hazy, but Draco couldn't smell any smoke. The unidentifiable music throbbed throughout the crowded club. People were dancing, drinking and all and all just enjoying themselves. He turned to Blaise.   
"I'm going to get a drink; do you want anything, mate?" Draco shouted over the music.   
"What?" Blaise shouted back   
"Do you want a drink?"   
"Hell yeah, mate!"   
"Yeah? Your usual?"   
Blaise just grinned and nodded.   
Draco made his way over to the bar, pushing past the groups of dancing witches and wizards. After the war, he avoided crowded and loud places. They made him uneasy, but tonight, he decided that he was going to forget about it. The bartender acknowledged his presence, and Malfoy held up two fingers.   
"Firewhisky, please."   
Malfoy started a tab, and the bartender nodded and produced two glasses of the amber liquid, handing them across the bar.   
He walked back over to the group and handed Blaise his drink. The two looked across the thrall of dancing witches and wizards and sipped their drinks.   
"Are you going to ask one of them to dance?" Blaise yelled over the music   
Draco chuckled. "I'm not nearly plastered enough to do that yet."   
"Well then, drink up, mate!"   
Draco had eventually lost count of how many drinks the pair had ended up having. All he knew was it was a lot. His vision swam slightly, and he definitely couldn't ride a broom. It had been a while since he had been out and enjoyed himself. It felt nice. 

-HERMIONE-   
Hermione initially told herself she wouldn't have anything to drink. She wanted to stay sober and stay responsible tonight. Plus, she was a lightweight, so after a few drinks, the other would be carrying her home and holding her hair back as she vomited in an alleyway. But that entire plan had gone to shit when Ginny bought a round of Gigglewater. Hermione didn't even know they sold it outside of the wizarding United States.   
Hermione initially didn't want to come out. She just wanted to sulk in her dorm room and read a book. Maybe take a bath. But no, she had just downed her 3rd shot of Gigglewater after being coerced by a very persuasive red-haired girl.   
"Isn't this fun!" Ginny shouted as Hermione winced, and they slammed their now empty glasses on the bar.   
"No," Hermione said bluntly.   
Ginny was beginning to get tipsy, and Hermione knew how she got when she got drunk. She was a handful.   
Ginny motioned to the bartender, "2 White Rat's, please."   
"Gin, no! I don't like whiskey, and I don't like drinking!"   
"Then, you haven't had enough yet."   
"What is the point of this little endeavor? What are you trying to accomplish?"   
"I want YOU to stop moping! Sure, life is shit at the moment, but look at the bright side, you get to marry-"   
"Forced. I'm being forced by the government to marry," Hermione interrupted her.   
Ginny ignored her, "you get to marry the richest man in all of the wizarding world! Think of all the books you could buy! And that the house is so big, you can hide so he can never find you!"   
Hermione looked at her as if she had gone mad. "You missed the part where I am being forced to reproduce with him."   
Ginny looked at her as if she was having a hard time focusing on her face. "The man is attractive! And you know how you reproduce?" Ginny looked around and put her hand to the side of her mouth as if not to be overheard and loudly whispered, "Sex!"   
"Ginevra Weasley!"   
"What!"   
Hermione shook her head, "You, my friend, need to drink some water." 

-DRACO-   
He was beginning to feel the alcohol taking full effect. His arms felt like lead, but he felt weightless at the same time. He and Blaise had found a table in the corner in the club and were finishing their drinks. Draco couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy.   
"What's wrong?" Blaise asked   
"Granger, I can't stop thinking about her. And I don't know why. She makes me so angry sometimes, and I can't figure her out."   
"Mate, a woman like that is not to be figured out. The new rule, no talking or thinking about Granger whatsoever tonight. We are in a club full of witches, and we don't need to dwell on it."   
"We are also engaged men."   
"Not by choice, so it doesn't count. Something also tells me she isn't going to mind at all."   
Draco only shrugged in response. He did have a point; there was no reason not to enjoy guys night. Blaise made his way to the dance floor, giving Draco a devilish grin. Draco laughed and followed him. He stopped; out of the corner of his eye, he could've sworn he'd seen a flash of that damn trademark Weasley red hair. No one was there when he turned, so he mentally blamed it on the alcohol. 

-HERMIONE-   
Ginny spun her around on the dance floor. She had finally, after much convincing, took a few more shots with Ginny. She was feeling it. She forgot about him, about the law, everything. She enjoyed this feeling.   
"Isn't this fun!" Ginny shouted over the music.   
Hermione only grinned in response. After a few more songs, she looked over towards her best friend.   
"I'm going to get another drink; do you want anything?"   
"Gin and tonic?"   
Hermione nodded and squeezed her way through the crowd until she was at the bar. She ordered her drinks, but as she turned around, she bumped into someone, spilling her drinks.   
“Oh Godric! I am so sor-”   
She looked up into the silver eyes of the Slytherin Prince himself. His hair was messy, but in a dapper sort of way as opposed to a lazy one. His white shirt was rolled up to his elbows, and the front was slightly wrinkled, and his collar was crooked. He reminded her of some rich American frat boy.   
"Malfoy," she said coldly.   
Draco just stood there, blinking and staring.   
"Umm, Malfoy?"   
"Bugger off! This is a Granger free night! I don't care how pretty you are; you make me upset!" he wagged his finger at her as if she was a small child being scolded.   
Man, was he plastered.   
She looked down at her now wet dress before pulling out her wand and magically dried the fabric. She looked up just in time to see Malfoy stomping off. She spotted Blaise and a few other Slytherins as well. Must have been a guy's night. Judging by Malfoy's adverse reaction to her presence earlier, she wouldn't have to worry about him bothering her later in the night.   
She hoped that someone got that man some water before he ended up pickling his entire body. She made her way back to Ginny, empty-handed.   
"What happened to our drinks?"   
'Malfoy is here," Hermione answered sourly, "Blaise is too."   
Ginny's eyes widened, and she opened her mouth; Hermione held up her hand to cut her off.   
"I'm too drunk to care, and I hope it gets worse."   
"No, I meant-"   
Hermione felt a hand tap her on the shoulder. She turned around to see possibly the most attractive wizard she had ever seen. He had brown hair that was close-cropped and sparkling blue eyes. Either she was drunk, or this man was one of the Gods himself.   
"I noticed that you spilled your drinks earlier; why don't I buy you another."   
Hermione only smiled in response. 

-DRACO-   
"Granger is here!" Draco announced to Blaise   
"Wait here? Right now?" He said, choking on his drink.   
"Yes, and the She- Weasel. Tormenting me wherever I go," he said   
"Aw mate, forget about her, about both of them."   
Draco turned back towards the crowd, scanning it for any signs of the two girls. He saw Granger talking to some handsome wizard across the room. He felt jealousy bubble up in his chest. He pushed it down by grabbing the drink out of Blaise's hand and swallowing the last of it. He slammed the empty glass down on the table, not removing his gaze from her.   
He saw her laugh at something he said, and that made Draco feel even angrier than before. He watched as the She-Weasel whispered something in her ear, Hermione nodded, and Ginny walked off towards the bar. He watched as the wizard began pulling Hermione out the club's back door leading to the alleyway.   
"Oh, hell, no!" Malfoy said   
Blaise was nowhere to be found, which created a problem: no Blaise, no one to stop Draco's tantrum. Malfoy pushed through the crowd towards the back door, determined.   
It seemed like an eternity by the time he had reached the back. He flung open the door to see Hermione leaning against the brick wall, the wizard in front of her leaning in for a kiss.   
"Hey! That's my wife!"   
Malfoy balled his fist and threw a punch, catching him square in the jaw. The wizard stumbled, holding his jaw. 

-GINNY-   
Ginny sat at the bar, ordering her drinks. Someone sat down next to her catching her attention.   
"Zabini," she said   
"Weasley," he said, nodding his head towards her.   
"I didn't expect to see you here tonight."   
"I could say the same for you."   
She turned to him, "what are you doing here?"   
"Guy's night. Well more like babysitting at this point," he said, gesturing over his shoulder to the back-corner table Draco had since abandoned.   
Ginny shifted in her chair, looking past him.   
"A table? Or are you just a bloody awful babysitter?"   
Blaise spun around and began frantically searching for his friend like a mother who had lost her small child at the market. Ginny began giggling.   
"What's so funny, Weasley? I don't see your pet either!"   
Ginny spun around to see that Hermione had disappeared as well. She turned back to him with wide eyes.   
"They are most likely together, so we need to stick together. I have a feeling I know where they are."   
He grabbed her arm and began pulling her towards the back door.   
"Zabini! Where are we going?"   
"Malfoy tends to end up in alleyways when he drinks too much for various reasons. Hopefully, he is not passed out in a bin again," he mumbled. 

-DRACO and HERMIONE-   
"Oi! What was that for?" the wizard said, clutching his jaw.   
Draco shoved him back, and the wizard fell straight onto his back.   
Draco drunkenly waved a finger at him. "Stay away from her! You can't just go dragging birds into an alley!" He said while gesturing wildly.   
"Fuck off, Malfoy!"   
Draco spun around to face her, "You! Don't even get me started with you!"   
The wizard watched as the two began bickering back and forth like a pair of children. He scrambled up from the ground and got the hell out of that alleyway.   
"You don't get to make my decisions for me, Malfoy! We aren't even married! We don't even like each other!" Hermione shouted   
"You can't just snog random wizards in an alleyway Granger! It's irresponsible and dangerous!"   
"Oh, what do you care, Malfoy?!"   
"I care! I care quite a lot!"   
"Why?!"   
"Because I love you! Because I have loved you since the moment I met you! Because I love how you constantly fight with me, how smart you are, how you keep me on my toes, how you don't let me bully you, because you never give up, because you are brave, because you're the best damn witch I've ever met. I haven't been able to get you out of my head since," Draco rested his forehead on hers, exhausted, "that's why."   
Draco closed his eyes, ready for whatever damage she was about to deal with next. He felt her hands come up, and he assumed she was about to strangle him, but to his surprise, she grabbed his head and brought his lips to hers, kissing him.   
Unbeknownst to the two wizards, two pairs of eyes were peeking into the alleyway. Ginny and Blaise looked at each other with wide eyes.   
"Should we... Stop them?" Ginny asked   
"Nah, just leave them," Blaise said, dragging her back into the club. 

-THE NEXT MORNING-   
Hermione's head was pounding. Her mouth was dry, and the world just seemed too bright before she had even opened her eyes. Regardless of her sick state, she knew something wasn't right. For one, it appeared that she had forgotten to get into bed with clothes on. Great. Oh. Oh no.   
Problem 2.   
She was NOT in her bed. She rolled over, fearing the worst. She saw the unmistakable shade of Malfoy blonde hair asleep next to her.   
Shit.


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hangovers and horny teens

-CHAPTER 13-   
She was NOT in her bed. She rolled over, fearing the worst. She saw the unmistakable shade of Malfoy blonde hair asleep next to her.   
Shit.   
-HERMIONE-   
Hermione didn't hear herself scream, but Malfoy woke with a start. He groaned and held his head.   
"Gods Granger, you can shut up now!"   
Hermione pulled the covers up to her chest in an attempt to spare what was left of her dignity. Her head was pounding, the world was too loud, and she felt as if the room was spinning. She was experiencing the worst hangover she had ever felt in her entire life. Naked. In Draco Malfoy's bed of all places. Malfoy sat up; his hair was messy and disheveled. He reached over to his nightstand drawer and produced two vials of a red liquid. He handed her one.   
"What is this?" She asked, uncorking the vial and smelling it.   
"My special version of a pepper up potion." He winked at her and downed the contents of the vial in one gulp. Hermione followed soon after.   
Seconds later, she began to feel the effects of the potion hitting her system. The world became less bright and less loud, her head stopped pounding, and she no longer felt as if the room was spinning. The potion had fixed all of her problems.   
All but one.   
They sat there in an awkward silence before Malfoy sighed and laid back down, his arms stretched behind his head. There was the faintest trace of a smirk on his face.   
"Do you find this entertaining?" Hermione said angrily   
He turned to look at her, eyeing her up and down.   
"Tell me, Granger, do you remember anything from last night?"   
"No," she answered honestly, "Maybe bits and pieces, but nothing comes to mind."   
Malfoy sat up and faced her, propping himself up on one arm.   
"So, you are telling me that neither of us can remember the events that transpired last night but yet you are going bonkers about it?"   
"Malfoy! We could have had sex!"   
"That was going to happen anyway! Do you know where babies come from, or will we need to have 'that' conversation?"   
Hermione frowned, clearly unhappy with his answer. But she looked defeated. She threw herself back down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. She could see Malfoy studying her face out of the corner of her eye, but she couldn't read his expression.   
"Granger, relax."   
Hermione didn't move.   
"How can you sit here with the given circumstances and tell me to relax?"   
Malfoy pushed himself up next to her and looked down at her. The covers were wrapped tightly around her still, so nothing was visible to him. He had a blanket draped around his hips, hiding everything but his chest from her.   
"Hermione," he said softly, putting two fingers under her chin gently.   
Hermione could only stare back at him in response.   
His eyes flitted back and forth from her eyes to her lips until he finally settled his gaze on her lips. He slowly lowered his face down to meet hers, only to hover centimeters from her lips. In an instant, he closed the distance between them and kissed her. It wasn't rough or hard, but gentle and timid as if he was a 4th year having his first kiss.   
The worst part is that she liked it. She felt somehow closer to him after last night as if something had changed. I mean, they had both ended up here, so that had to mean there were some underlying feelings.   
Right?   
When he pulled away, she looked up at him.   
"Why?" She croaked   
He sighed and hung his head slightly.   
"Because what's the point in fighting this anymore? After last night," He slumped back onto the headboard, "Fuck. It's inevitable. It's going to happen anyway; why not have it happen on our terms? I don't want to have a marriage that is 100% because the government wanted it. I want control. I want to have some sort of say in this situation. You know?"   
Hermione nodded slowly. It didn't make sense, but she understood him. She had never felt so helpless in her entire life, not even during the war. She hated it.   
"So, what does that mean? We start over?"   
"I don't know," he said, "I don't care. I just want to make sure you're not completely miserable for the rest of your life."   
She laughed bitterly, "I'm not sure that's entirely possible."  
He rolled over to face her and propped his head upon his elbow. "And why is that?"  
"Because I hate you. Or at least I am supposed to"  
"I don't want to hate you anymore. It takes too much energy, and I rather use that energy for something productive."  
She rolled to face him, clutching the covers gently around her. They locked eyes and didn't speak for several seconds. Draco reached out a hand and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, pausing as his hand cupped her cheek.

"Maybe," he said, clearing his throat, "maybe I'm still drunk, but I want to kiss you," he said in a gentle half-whisper.

Hermione took a sharp breath and paused, "maybe I'm still drunk because I want you to."

His eyes darted from her lips to her face as he gracefully snaked an arm around her waist, pulling her in. Their faces hovered inches apart. 

"I won't do anything without your permission."

She took in a deep, shaky breath, "I know."

Draco waited for some sort of green light, but she gave away no such signals or hints. He was about to pull away when she laid a hand on his chest and looked at him.

"Please."

These words took Draco by surprise; never in a million years would he have expected to be in this situation, hearing those words, from her of all people. He gently grabbed her face and pulled her mouth to his. He kissed her slowly at first, not wanting to scare her away or overwhelm her. After a few moments, he pressed his lips to her harder and kissed her with more ferocity. They were both breathing hard as he rolled on top of her, not breaking the kiss. He waited for her to object or make some sort of indication that he was going too far, but she gave no illusion of such a thing. He snaked an arm around her back and pressed her to him. She reached up and threaded her fingers into his hair. He broke off the kiss to give her a chance to breathe and focused his attention on her neck. He kissed and nipped at it gently, careful not to leave a mark. Her fingers wound themselves tighter into his hair as she panted underneath him. He felt himself grow more excited the longer he kissed her. He pulled away and looked down at her red face.

"Do you," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "uh want-"

She nodded quickly.

His face broke out into a grin as he shifted slightly, "fantastic."

His lips found hers again with increased intensity as he moved the blanket that encompassed her form off of her so that they were both under the duvet. He pressed his naked body against hers and shivered. She felt so soft and so warm; he felt like someone was giving him small electric shocks wherever their skin touched. His hand snaked down and squeezed her thigh tightly. She jumped at the sensation and pressed up against him. He smiled into her neck and squeezed harder. Hand still on her thigh, he detached himself from her neck and looked down at her.

"You have to tell me what you like and don't like; this is about me as much as it is you," he said, looking her in the eyes, straight-faced and serious.

"Who knew you were such a gentleman in the sheets?" Hermione felt like her heart melted in her chest. But she didn't want him to know that.

He grinned back, "don't go spreading those rumors around Granger."  
He gently moved her thighs apart and positioned himself accordingly. He leaned down to kiss her softly. He inched his hand softly up to her inner thigh, making his way to her center slowly.

Hermione exhaled softly and arched her back, getting impatient. He looked up at her, making sure she kept eye contact, and he moved his lips down to place soft, slow kisses up her thigh. She let out an irritated huff. He took that as his cue to hurry things up. He made his way up steadily until his lips came to her hips. He paused and trailed his kisses across her lower stomach, the valley in between her breasts, and then to her lips.

"Ready?" he breathed.

She only nodded in response. He placed one hand on her hip to steady himself.

The door flew open with a loud bang, causing both of them to jump. From behind the door, he saw Blaise and Ginny. Draco threw himself down over Hermione in an attempt to cover her. Ginny's eyes were wide, and Blaise just had the same stupid grin on his face.

"Oi! Malfoy! How are you doing, mate?" He said

"How the fuck do you think I'm doing, Zabini!?" He propped himself up slightly, giving her the chance to move herself out from under him without exposing herself. Her face was bright red as she pulled the comforter up to her nose.

"What in Godric's name do you want, Zabini?"

"McGonagall sent for us 4," he said, motioning to the both of them, "and she's not happy. Word got back to her about last night's events."

Draco groaned and threw himself back down on the bed. He rubbed his face tiredly. 

"We will be there soon. Leave, and we will meet you there," Draco said irritably.

"Not a chance mate, gotta make sure you keep it PG. We will give you 10 minutes, and if you're not in your common room by then, I'm coming back up here." 

Draco responded by throwing a pillow at him. It would have hit him straight in the face if Blaise hadn't slammed the door shut. 

Draco rubbed his face again, "Fuck!" he said from behind his hands

Ten minutes later, they were all walking down the corridor to the Headmaster's Office. The girls walked in front of them, whispering back and forth to each other. The boys lagged. Blaise clapped a hand on Draco's back, still grinning. Draco's face was beyond pissed off. 

"Zabini, I swear to Godric. I will end you."

Blaise chuckled, "I'm happy for you, mate."

Draco turned and looked at him, "nothing happened, thanks to you, Captain Cockblock."

"But you made progress! You almost did."

"I would have done it if you had more than half a bloody brain cell. How the hell did you even get into our dorms?"

Blaise pointed ahead of him, "Ginny had the password."

"First name basis, I see?"

Before Blaise could answer, the staircase spun open. They made their way into the Headmaster's Office one by one.

McGonagall sat behind the large desk, arms folded, and mouth set in a straight line. No one said anything for several moments.

"Now correct me if I am wrong, did you or did you not leave campus after curfew?"

"We did," Blaise said 

"And did you or did you not sneak off campus to go to Diagon Alley?"

"That would also be true," Ginny said sheepishly.

"And would it also be true that you went to get intoxicated in a club in said place?"

"That's correct, Headmaster," Hermione said

"Headmaster," Draco started, "if I may-" She cut him off by holding up a single finger.

"And is it also correct that you, Mr. Malfoy assaulted another wizard at the said club? And to be more specific, in an alleyway behind the said club?"

"In my defense-"  
McGonagall stood up quickly from her desk, making the 4 of them jump. "Mr. Malfoy, do you have any idea who you hit last night? You decided to pick a fight with the son of a very influential member of the Wizengamot. You are quite lucky he did not decide to press charges or expel you! No more unauthorized activities from any of you or all of you will be punished most harshly. Do I make myself clear?"

The four of them nodded.

"You are dismissed."

The four of them turned to leave when she spoke up again "Actually, Mr. Malfoy; I'm not quite finished with you."

Draco paused and nodded to his classmates as they walked out the door. He turned around to face her and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Mr. Malfoy," he eyes softened, "this is your first and final warning. The Judge made it very clear that the next incident we have with you will null and void their original ruling. One more misstep, Mr. Malfoy, and you and your mother will be tried again and more likely than not be heading to Azkaban with your father."

The thought of his mother in Azkaban made his blood boil.

"Headmaster, it wasn't all my fault. How am I expected to-"

"I know Mr. Malfoy. However, the majority of the Wizarding World sees you as a threat. A terrorist and a war criminal. They don't want you wandering the streets or getting into spats at bars. They are looking for any reason to condemn you and your mother, Malfoy, so I highly suggest you behave."

Draco felt his face turn beat red as she spoke. 

"May I go now?"

McGonagall's eyes widened in surprise. He, however, didn't wait for an answer. He turned on his heel and stormed down the corridor until he eventually caught up with the rest of the group. He wordlessly pulled Hermione aside and into an abandoned classroom. He grabbed her by the waist and hoisted her up onto a desk.

"Malfoy! What are you doing! You can't just- mmph!"

He pressed his lips against hers. He felt a mix of emotions but mainly just anger, and he didn't want to feel angry anymore.  
He unbuttoned his top shirt and untucked it from his pants, not breaking the kiss. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer, his hand snaking up her leg and lifting her skirt. 

"What are you doing?" she panted. When he didn't answer her, she pulled away and pressed him again.  
"Malfoy, why are you so angry? What did McGonagall say to you?"

He didn't meet her eyes, "nothing. I got it handled."

"So, you're telling me you aren't angry?"

"No, I am furious, which is why you are on this desk right now and why I am half-naked," he said, kissing her again.

"Why are you angry?"

"Because," he said, kissing her neck, "that old bag has pissed me off, and I was interrupted from a particular activity I've been looking forward to this morning."

"And this is how you express anger?"

"Yes. Is that a problem?" He growled

"No, uh, no. It's all… uh."

"Shut up, Granger," he said, pushing her so that she was lying down, her back on the desk, "just shut the fuck up."

She was startled by his sudden aggressive behavior. But she knew that she wanted this as badly as she did, and she was rather upset too that their sudden relationship development was cut short this morning. She grabbed his tie and pulled him to her, "gladly."


	15. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron is traumatized and Draco gets handsy

CHAPTER 14  
"Shut up, Granger," he said, pushing her so that she was lying down, her back on the desk, "just shut the fuck up."  
She grabbed his tie and pulled him to her, "gladly."  
Her hands fumbled with her skirt as Malfoy tried his best to remove his belt without breaking the kiss. Her hands were blindly groping to loosen his tie. He snaked one arm around her back and pulled her up towards him so that she was sitting, his hands in her hair and her shirt halfway unbuttoned. His hands gripped her thighs so hard Hermione would've been surprised if he didn't leave bruises.  
"A terrorist and a war criminal."  
Those words rang through Draco's mind, and he tried to push them aside as best as he could, trying to focus on the task at hand. He hooked his thumb on the waistband of her knickers and pulled them down. He inserted two fingers inside her, making sure she was ready. Draco moaned.  
"Fucking hell Granger," he said in a low tone, "I swear you'll be the death of me."  
She only groaned in response, burying her face in his neck. He freed himself from his trousers and entered her in one swift motion. She threw her head back and ground her hips into his, breathing hard. He gripped her hips harder, thrusting into her rhythmically. He buried his face into her neck, trailing kisses from her clavicle to her jawline.  
"Tell me how good that feels, Granger. Hmm? Tell me what I do to you."  
She couldn't respond with coherent sentences or words. The only indication she gave was a hoarse moan in his ear. He smirked slightly, knowing that she would come untethered soon enough. He felt her tense up, and he knew she couldn't take much more; hell, he knew that he couldn't either. She rocked her hips into his, desperately looking for some form of relief.  
"Beg for it."  
Her voice cracked, "please."  
"What was that, Granger? I couldn't quite hear you," he whispered into her ear lightly.  
"Draco, please. Please," she said in a strangled voice."  
He didn't change the pace, no matter how much he wanted to. Hermione began breathing more erratically, and Draco grabbed her jaw roughly and whispered into her ear.  
"Come for me, Hermione."  
Those words were just enough to send her over the edge. She whimpered quietly and buried her head into his chest as he felt her walls flutter and clench around him. He was still keeping his pace, not wanting to ruin this for her. A few moments later, he gave a low, sultry moan in her ear as he hit his peak.  
Draco gave a light chuckle as he kissed her on the forehead and grabbed his wand to clean them both up.  
They were both still breathing hard as they quickly fixed their clothing.  
"Never thought I'd shag Hermione Granger in an abandoned classroom, although I'm not complaining."  
Hermione flushed at his comment, but he still caught a hint of a smile on the corner of her lips. He ran a hand through his now messy hair. Hermione suppressed a coy smile; he was rather handsome with his hair like that; however, she would never tell him that. There was absolutely no reason to feed his Malfoy ego. He took her into his arms and tipped her head up so that she was looking right at him. His grey eyes were practically shining as he looked down at her.  
"I can't wait to do that again," he said, smirking slightly, "and the way, your legs are shaking; I feel like that feeling may be mutual, hmm?"  
She flushed slightly, "I feel like you are giving yourself more credit than you should be."  
He quirked an eyebrow down at her "if you don't watch that mouth of yours, you may find yourself on another desk here shortly."  
She turned an even deeper color of red. Malfoy tipped her chin a bit more before slowly lowering his mouth to meet hers, his hand creeping towards the waistband of her skirt once more. She could feel his breath ghosting across her lips, and she shuddered.  
"You think I'm kidding, don't you? That's your first mistake, Granger," he said seriously.  
The door to the classroom burst open to reveal a furious Ron Weasley; they both turned their heads in unison to see the wizard whose face was as red as his hair. Ron drew his wand.  
"Get off of her, Malfoy," he menaced, "Hermione, are you alright?"  
Before she could answer, Draco cut in, releasing her from his embrace and turning his body towards Ron.  
"Put your wand down, you oaf."  
"Shove off!"  
"Ronald Weasley! Put your wand down! What are you doing here?" Hermione cried.  
His wand arm never lowered, and his eyes flicked over towards her. "you were late to breakfast, so I took the map and found the two of you in here. I figured the Ferret had lured you in here and was going to take advantage of you. I can see I was right," he said, casting his best 'Molly Weasley' glare in Draco's direction.  
"Ronald! You did NOT use the map for this!"  
"I didn't have a choice, 'Mione!"  
Draco's head moved back and forth from the witch and wizard as if he was watching a tennis match, visible confusion painted across his face.  
"What in Godric's name are the two of you talking about?"  
His question seemed to fall upon deaf ears as the two of them continued to argue.  
"These kinds of situations don't warrant using the map!"  
"What else was I supposed to do?!"  
"Wait like a normal human being! And not steal magical maps from your best friend!"  
"I didn't intend to come looking for you until I saw you were with him!"  
Malfoy interrupted, "what sodding map are the two of you talking about."  
The two were red in the face but remained silent for a while. Hermione looked at her feet and played with her hands as if she was hesitant to reveal a secret.  
"Harry has this map that shows where everyone in the castle is every second of the day," Hermione said quietly.  
"What was that, Granger?"  
"Hermione, don't say another word to him," Ron snapped.  
"Don't tell her what to do, Weasel," Draco warned  
"You keep your mouth shut, Malfoy."  
"You don't get to tell me what to do either. I'm a fucking Malfoy."  
"Being a Malfoy won't help you when I beat the ever-loving-"  
"BOYS!" Hermione yelled, causing both men to jump and turn towards her, "Stop fighting! Ronald Weasley, put your bloody wand down and start acting like a civilized human being," Malfoy smirked in response before she turned on him, "And Draco, stop being an absolute git and egging him on! Now Ron, why on Earth would you find it necessary to use the map for this? Just because I didn't show up for breakfast? Couldn't you have just asked Ginny or maybe Harry?"  
Ron got uncomfortably quiet and looked at his feet, stuffing his wand in his pocket, "Ginny said the last time she saw you were with Malfoy, so I took the map" Hermione looked furious, "I got worried! He's a snake and a Death Eater! He could've hexed you or worse!"  
"She's perfectly capable of taking care of herself, Weasley; however, no one has answered my question on what the bloody hell this map is about."  
"Harry has this map that-"  
Ron cut her off, "Hermione, no!"  
"Quiet Ron! Harry has this magical map his father helped create that shows where anyone in the castle is every second of every day. He found it during our 3rd year."  
"Unbelievable. I take that back; Potter would have a magical fucking map, wouldn't he?"  
"That still doesn't explain why you were in here with her," Ron said accusingly.  
"It's none of your business what we do when we are alone together, Weasley," Malfoy smirked, just waiting to see the ginger boy explode.  
Ron's eyes flitted back and forth between the two of them, slowly putting the pieces together. Between the messy look of Malfoy's hair and the crumpled appearance of Hermione's shirt, it didn't take long before he figured it out. The realization flooded his face, and his eyes went wide.  
"You didn't." He said, clenching his teeth.  
"Oh, but I did Weasley, "Draco said, grinning widely, "twice."  
Ron's wand was out once more and pointed at Draco's throat. Malfoy didn't flinch or make any move to grab his wand that was tucked away in his trousers.  
"How dare you take advantage of 'Mione like that. I'm going to kill you, Malfoy." He said darkly  
"Ronald! He didn't take advantage of me! It was a mutual agreement between consenting adults!"  
Ron looked even more furious than before, "so now you're whoring yourself out to war criminals!"  
Hermione looked like she was going to cry, and Draco turned on Ron and began walking towards him, despite him being wandless and Ron with his wand drawn.  
"Weasley," he snapped, "apologize. Now."  
Despite Ron being an inch or two taller than Draco, Draco was better built, in Hermione's opinion. He had a sleek Seeker's build that gave him an almost elegant and graceful appearance, but she knew from first-hand experience that he was strong. Draco looked as if he was out for blood. Hermione knew that this wouldn't end well for either of the involved parties.  
"Incarcerous!"  
Ropes sprang to life, wrapping themselves around both boys, effectively restraining them. Ron audibly dropped his wand, and it clattered out of his grasp onto the stone floor. The two of them looked positively murderous.  
"Granger, what are you doing?" Malfoy said, gritting his teeth  
"Preventing the two of you from killing each other! There is no reason to sit here and argue like children!"  
Malfoy noticed a tear sliding down her cheek as she spoke.  
"Hermione, it's alright. Don't listen to him," he said softly, trying as best he could to console the witch from afar.  
She said nothing as she looked between the two of them, her mouth drawn in a thin line. She looked disturbingly similar to McGonagall.  
"Hermione, let us go. We can work this out like adults. I promise," Draco cooed softly.  
"Promise me, both of you."  
The boys nodded in unison as she cast the counter spell, causing the ropes to fall to the ground. Once both of them were free, Ron wasted no time turning to Malfoy with a clenched fist and punched him directly in his right eye. Draco stumbled backward, a clear view of the shock on his face.  
"Ron! Immobulus!"  
Ron was frozen in place, unable to move anything but his face. He was furious as he watched Draco glare at him silently as he made his way towards Hermione. Malfoy grabbed both of her arms and looked at her.  
"Are you alright?"  
She nodded, looking up at his already bruising eye. She looked over Draco's shoulder and cast a pained glance at the frozen Ron behind her. She saw his face soften, realizing what he had done.  
"Hermione, I'm s-"  
"Don't," she said hoarsely, turning and running out of the room, tears streaking down her face.  
Draco gave Ron a sideways glance before walking out of the room, "I know I'm not one to talk, but I can see why things didn't work out between the two of you." He paused at the door, removing his wand from his pocket and pointing it at him.  
"finite incantatem."  
Ron dropped to his knees and turned to find the platinum hair wizard gone.  
Draco walked quickly through the halls after Hermione.  
"Granger! Granger, stop!"  
Draco quickened his pace before he grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.  
"You just have to spoil everything, don't you!" she cried.  
Draco was shocked by this sudden outburst, "Me? Last I checked, we were having a rather good morning before your little Weasel walked in and went postal!"  
"All you did was egg him on!  
Draco set his jaw firmly, and he looked at her with his silver eyes, "are you serious right now? It's not my fault he can't control his temper."  
"This whole situation was your fault! You were the one who created the bloody charm that matched us in the first place, you're the one who had to get into a fight last night at the bar, and you're the one who started tormenting us in the first place! Everything that has gotten us to this point is entirely your fault. Last night and this morning was a mistake. I'd rather have my magic taken from me, and my wand snapped than spend another moment with you."  
Draco was speechless. Hermione yanked her arm from his grasp and stalked down the hallway, her shoes clicking on the stone floor. Draco ran a hand through his hair and swore. He saw a group of 3rd years gawking at him out of the corner of his eye.  
"What the fuck are you staring at?"  
The group of children scrambled away at once, leaving Draco to sit on the cold floor, his back against the wall.  
Back to square one. Draco thought.


	16. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: don't own it. 

CHAPTER 15

Back to square one. Draco thought.

Ginny found her best friend crying in the Gryffindor common room after she returned from breakfast. She was lying face down on one of the couches, sobbing into the pillow.

"Hermione! What's wrong?" the redhead said, running to the couch.

"Everything!" she sobbed.

Ginny crouched down on the floor, one hand on the couch so she could be eye-level with the witch.  
"What do you mean by everything? Did McGonagall strip you of Head Girl after last night?" She said, her eyes growing wide.

"No, even worse," she said, looking up at her friend, "Malfoy and I shagged."

"You shagged?!"

"Twice."

"Twice? I mean, after the way we found the two of you this morning, I figured something had happened. Was it good?"

"Ginny!"

"What! You are crying, stating that you shagged after you two seemed perfectly happy this morning, so one can only assume it was bad!"

Hermione didn't respond.

"So was it?"

"Was it what?"

“Godric, ‘Mione! Was it bad?”

She sat up and wiped her face, "no, it wasn't bad. It was fantastic, actually."

"Then, why are you crying?"

"Because your brother caught us."

Ginny's hands flew to her wide open mouth in shock. "Oh, my Gods. What happened? Did he see you naked?"

"No, we had both…gotten dressed by that time. He just saw the aftermath."

Ginny shifted and sat down on the floor, "tell me everything."

Ginny's mouth never closed, and her eyes remained wide the entire time that Hermione recounted this morning's events to her.

"He said that? He called you a whore?"

"He didn't explicitly call me a whore. He just suggested I was acting like one."

"And then he punched Malfoy?"

Hermione nodded.

"And then you actually said that to Malfoy?"

She nodded again.

"Merlin, I'm going to kill him."

"Ginny, no!"

"Why not? He should know better; even if you weren't bound by a new magical law that quite literally requires you to shag, it's none of his business. He doesn't own you; you two aren't together anymore."

Hermione sniffed, "I mean, I guess you are right."

"I am right! The rest of us aren't particularly fond of this entire situation either, but we don't have a choice in the matter."

"But Malfoy did."

Ginny shot her a puzzled look, "how? How is that even possible?"

"Malfoy is the one who created the pairing spell."

'You need to tell me everything. Start talking."

-DRACO-

Draco stalked into the Great Hall and took a seat for a late breakfast, scowling as he grabbed a piece of toast. He had already been to the Head Dorms and determined that she wasn't there, meaning she was either hiding in the library or the Gryffindor Dorms.

"Oi, mate! What happened to your face?" Blaise asked.

"Don't ask, Zabini," Draco grumbled.

"But you know I have to," he grinned, "who knew Granger was into that, eh?"

Draco looked up a Blaise with a murderous glare, "I will gut you, right here, right now. This entire thing is your fault. If you hadn't forced me to go out last night, none of this would've happened," he growled.

Blaise raised his eyebrow, "you seemed more than happy with the aftermath of last night's events when I found you tangled in the sheets with the Gryffindor Prin-"

"I wouldn't finish that if I were you."

Draco could feel the eyes of the entire Slytherin table on the two of them.

Blaise threw his hands up in surrender. "I was making a point. The two of you looked pretty cozy this morning."

Draco stood up suddenly and glared down at the wizard, "not another word."  
He stalked out of the Great Hall, leaving several shocked Slytherins and a grinning Blaise Zabini.

Draco had no idea where to go, he wanted to get Granger and the stupid Weasle out of his mind, but his attempts were fruitless. He wandered the Slytherin dungeons for a good hour or more before he couldn't take it anymore. She had to be here somewhere. He checked the Head Dorms first without any luck and then began searching various classrooms to see if she had decided to start some bloody extra credit project. He wandered the library, even snuck into the restricted section, and there was still no sign of the witch. Each room he searched through proved to be Granger-less and each room he failed to find her in made him grow even more agitated. He ran a hand through his hair for the umpteenth time that day out of frustration. He had to think about this; the only places he hadn't checked were outside the castle, the other house common rooms, and the Headmistresses office. She had no reason to be in any of the other house common rooms unless it was Gryffindor, and she had no reason to visit McGonagall's. He doubted she'd be outside; the weather was windy and miserable unless, of course, she had gone and visited Hagrid, which Hagrid seemed like the last person to rant about this morning's events. Outside was now off of the table. He looked out one of the windows and sighed, leaning up against the cold stone. The sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, indicating that he had probably spent a good 5 hours trying to find her. This whole thing was eating him alive.

Damn. It'd be nice to have Potter's map right about now.

He had one last place that he wanted to check. He stopped in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. He debated whether or not he should ask to go inside.

He cleared his throat, "excuse me, is Granger in there?"

The Fat Lady scoffed and turned up her nose at him, "as if I would tell you."

"Please, it's important."

"You're probably the reason she is in there crying."

Draco raised an eyebrow, 'so you're telling me she is in there?"

The Fat Lady huffed, "I'm not letting you inside."

Malfoy may have turned over a new leaf, but he was still the same arrogant, stubborn, entitled prat he's always been, "You will so help me, Godric," he threatened.

-HERMIONE-

They had stayed in the common room for several hours, talking about everything, only stopping to eat and greet her other classmates as they came back for the night. Thankfully, there had been no sign of Ron yet, but she knew that it wouldn't last forever. He was probably out blowing off steam at the Pitch with Harry. She transfigured her everyday clothes into a pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting tee shirt. Her hair was down and a mess. By the time Hermione had finished her story, the sun was setting, and the look on Ginny's face could only be described as a mixture of horror, fascination, and disbelief. 

"I remembered you were telling me that he knew ahead of time, but I had no idea he was the one who invented the charm. Why on Earth would he do something like that?"

"The Ministry threatened him and his mother if he didn't agree to it," Hermione said in a low voice.

"That's terrible!"

"I don't blame him for making the decision that he did, but I am still furious that of all people, it had to be me. And the fact that he knew and didn't give me any warning."

"Who knows, maybe it won't be so bad, being married to him. He has changed since the War."

Hermione opened her mouth to reply when the sound of muffled yelling started outside of the portrait door.

"I will burn your canvas to ash if you don't open this door right now, you cow!"

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other.

"Is that Malfoy?" Ginny asked.

"I think it might be."

"I need to see Granger! So help me Go-"

Hermione and Ginny swung the portrait door open and peeked out to see a very angry Malfoy. His wand was drawn, and he was waving it menacingly at the Fat Lady. His hair was even more of a mess than it was this morning. His tie looked like it was too loose, and his sleeves were rolled up just below his elbows, giving a clear view of his Dark Mark. The malicious glint in his eyes, and the sneer on his face disappeared when he saw the girl's faces.

"Granger," he said sighing.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Hermione asked, furious.

"I've been looking for you all day, please can we talk?"

"You are the last person I want to be talking to right now," Malfoy noticed that her eyes were red, and she looked like she had been crying. 

"Granger, I'm trying to make this right."

"There isn't anything to make right. I don't want to talk to you; we aren't dating, we aren't even together, and we most certainly are not friends. You are nothing to me. You are the reason the whole wizarding world is in this mess, and you are the reason for so many other fucked up things that have happened. You are a monster, and you've done nothing but make me miserable the last eight years of my life." She exited the common room and made her way over to him.

Malfoy's eyes flashed angrily, but she didn't stop.

"You have no right to show up to this door, angry for a problem you created. Do you think I wanted to be paired with a Death Eater for the next five years of my life? Do you think that I wanted to have a child with that very same person?"

"Do you think that I did this on purpose? Do you think for one second that I chose you to be my match?" Malfoy laughed humorlessly, "out of all the people on this fucking planet, do you think I would want to be paired with a nosy, annoying know-it-all shrew? Don't flatter yourself, Granger, I would rather choose a bloody Hippogriff."

"Well, given your track record, I highly doubt the Hippogriff would tolerate you either. You are an insufferable little ferret with nothing better to do than make everyone around him miserable!"

Malfoy's nostrils flared angrily, "why don't you run back to your little pet weasel then? I'm sure he'd be more than happy to listen to you drone on and on about how fucking brilliant you are because Godric forbids that no one knows how smart you are for 10 seconds!"

"You are just like your-"

"Hermione," Ginny warned in a low voice.

"-Father!"

The hall went silent. Draco recoiled as if he had been slapped. He felt a large lump forming in his throat, and his mouth felt like it was full of sand. Hermione felt his silver eyes burning through her as she registered the weight of the words she just said. She closed her eyes tightly.

"M-"

Draco was already halfway down the hall by the time she opened them again, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. She made a move to run after him when Ginny grabbed her by the arm.

"Let him go, Hermione, don't make this worse," she whispered in her friend's ear.

"But-" 

"It can wait. Let's spend the rest of the day here, and you can go back when it's late enough he will be asleep. You two need a break from each other."

Hermione watched as the blonde disappeared around a corner before giving in to her friend's request. She turned and followed Ginny into the portrait. 

MANY HOURS LATER

Hermione looked at her watch.

12:00

She was sure that Malfoy had to be asleep by now. She knew she couldn't stay the night on the common room couch and the rest of the house was fast asleep in their rooms save for Ginny, who was still awake. Ron and Harry had come back a few hours after the fight in the hallway. Harry stopped and sat with the girls; however, Ron walked straight up the stairs ignoring them. 

"Well, Gin, I think it's time I head back," she said, standing.

Ginny nodded in response. She stood and hugged her friend before seeing her out of the common room. Harry had lent her the map to avoid Filch, knowing she couldn't use Head Patrol Duty as an excuse at this hour and when she was by herself. By the time she had gotten back to her dorm, it was a quarter past, and she pushed the door open as silently as she could, almost tripping over Malfoy's dress shoes. The effort proved to be pointless when she found Malfoy waiting on the couch, the lit fireplace, and a small lamp illuminating the room.

His hair was a mess, he had thrown his tie to the side, and his shirt was unbuttoned halfway. His white dress shirt sleeves were pushed up just below the elbows, and his charcoal grey trousers were still on. He was holding a glass of what appeared to be FireWhisky on his knee as he stared into the fire. 

"Malfoy I-"

Draco turned towards her, his eyes looked red and bloodshot, and he wore an unreadable expression. 

"I didn't-"

He set his glass down on the end table with an aggressive thud and swaggered slowly, almost menacingly, over towards her. For every step he took towards her, she took one step back until she felt her back hit the stone wall. Malfoy stood in front of her, hands planted against the wall, effectively caging her in. He gently grabbed her chin and tipped her head up so that she met his eyes. She could feel his warm breath on her lips, and she shivered, remembering this morning in the abandoned classroom. His eyes flitted from her lips to her eyes before he leaned in slightly, lips a mere inch apart.

"You know Granger," he whispered softly, almost soothingly. 

Hermione could smell the Firewhisky mingling with the scent of his cologne, and she didn't hate it. It was an almost familiar smell, but she couldn't tell why.

"I can't wait until I knock you up. You know why? That means I'm one step closer to having you leave me the fuck alone."

Hermione didn't know why his words stung the way they did. They weren't dating; they had only had a momentary lapse in judgment before they realized that they, well, were them. She closed her eyes once she felt his lips brush hers.

"I fucking hate you," he whispered.

Hermione felt him shift, and she opened her eyes. He was already at the stairs when she half-whispered back.

"I hate you too."

Malfoy froze, his hand on the railing. He stole a glance at the witch behind him before climbing to the top.

"No, you don't." 

He was right. She didn't. And she hated herself for it.


	17. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: don't own it. This chapter does contain direct quotes from the book, all credit goes to JKR

CHAPTER 16

"I fucking hate you," he whispered.

"I hate you too."

"No, you don't."

He was right. She didn't. And she hated herself for it.

Hermione stared at her bedroom ceiling, debating on whether or not she should go to bed and forget about Malfoy, or if she should break down his door and force him to accept her apology. The first one was the more reasonable option, but the second would make her feel better. She hated being at odds with someone, especially when she knew it was her fault. She had crossed a line with Malfoy. Comparing him to Lucius had been a low blow, but for whatever reason, she said it. Maybe because she wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her, but that wasn't right. She didn't survive an entire war to bring hatred back into this world. She was angry. She was mad with the Ministry of Magic, she was angry with Malfoy, but she was angry with herself worst of all. She groaned and rolled to the other side of her bed, pulling the covers closer. She had no idea how long she had laid there, but the sound of someone closing the bathroom door woke her up. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up in bed. Her watch said it was 6:30.

He is probably getting up earlier to avoid me.

Whether it was stubbornness or her pride, she quietly got up and snuck downstairs and sat at the kitchenette with a cup of coffee in her hands. Malfoy crept down the stairs but froze when he saw her sitting there, his expression twisting into something unreadable.

"I hate fucking hate you."

He stood there and debated on walking back to his room or ignoring her completely. Her small voice broke his thoughts.

"Malfoy-" she choked out.

"I hate you too."

He stood there, blank expression, just staring at her.

"No, you don't."

She closed her eyes, trying to find the words to say, or if it was even worth the conversation at all. He had been a terrible git to her for years and had kept his knowledge of this whole arrangement a secret.

"You knew!"

"Give me one good reason I shouldn't hex you into the next week! One reason!"

"I'm going to make this work, Granger."

If he could try, so could she.

"I'm sorry," she said, breathing in deeply, "I shouldn't have said that. It was wrong of me."

"I don't believe that for a second."

His words shocked her. She wasn't expecting that.

"You're only sorry because you have to be," he said, "You don't want to ruin the image you have of "war heroine'. The entire Wizarding World worships the ground you walk on, but only because they see the Granger you want them to see. All of your outbursts, your temper, no one on the outside sees that. And even if they did, they would blame it on something other than your actions, and they'd make excuses."

Hermione blinked, not knowing how to respond.

"How do you think it is for me?" He took a few steps closer to her, "everything I do is put under a microscope. Everyone is just waiting for me to look at someone the wrong way or show any emotion so they can throw my mother and me in Azkaban for life. I chose to protect her at all costs, and I knew I had to pay for it somehow. I walk on eggshells every day of my life, while you walk around like Godric himself, without a care in the world."

"I testified for you during the Wizemgamot trials," Hermione blurted out without thinking, "And Harry defended your mother."

"I wish you didn't. Saint Potter should've saved my mother, and you should've stayed out of it. I would much rather be having some one-on-one time with dear old dad than be here with you."

"You don't mean that."

"I do. Did you think that everything would smooth over, and it would be rainbows and butterflies? After Hogwarts, what am I going to do with my life? I can't work for the Ministry, and no one in their right mind would hire an ex-Death Eater. I have nothing but my mother, and what do you think happens to me after she is gone?"

Hermione swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, "I didn't know any of that."

Malfoy threw his hand in the air, exasperated, "for the Brightest Witch of Her Age; you sure are thick. You didn't do me any favors."

"We can work this out. We will figure this out."

"We? There is no 'we' Granger. I meant what I said last night. After that period is up, we are separating. We can co-parent, however you want, but we don't work."

"I want us too."

Malfoy's expression changed. His face went utterly blank, and for a moment, he appeared to have gone through all five stages of grief simultaneously before his face settled on pure shock.

"What?"

"I want this. I want this to work."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

Hermione didn't speak.

"Granger, you don't always get what you want. I think it's high time you learned that."

He grabbed his bag without another word and quickly left the common room, portrait door slamming behind him.

Hermione racked her brain for some way to fix this situation and found herself without answers. She realized she knew nothing about Malfoy. No one at this school did. But she knew one person that did. She grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment and scribbled down a note. Before she could convince herself that this was an entirely terrible idea, she made her way to the owlery as quickly, wrapping the scroll with a piece of ribbon as she walked. She tied the scroll to an owl's leg and whispered something to it before it took off. She was thankful that it was only Sunday. It had been a long weekend between the clubbing incident on Friday and the other incidents yesterday. That meant she had time to follow through with her plan immediately. She made her way to the Head's dorm so she could get ready for breakfast.

-DRACO-

Draco set his book bag down as he sat down for breakfast in the Great Hall. He had spent the better part of the morning in the library, trying to find anything to keep his mind off the damned witch and hopefully try to get some school work done. Blaise settled in beside him, grabbing a slice of toast and some jam. Draco didn't look up as he violently stabbed a piece of sausage on his plate.

"Rough morning?" Blaise asked.

"Shut it, Zabini."

"I was only asking. Does Granger put up with your grumpiness like this?"

"Wouldn't know."

"Ah, trouble in paradise?"

Draco looked up at him with a dark expression, "paradise was never on the table."

"So, are we going to talk about what's got your knickers in a twist this time?"

"Granger."

"I figured, but you're going to have to be a bit more specific."

"She's a nightmare."

Blaise could tell that he wouldn't get much more out of the moody blonde, so he gave up. The pair finished their breakfast in silence when he noticed a familiar owl swoop down and drop something on the Gryffindor table. He could've sworn it was-

His eyes must have been playing tricks on him, and he just decided to ignore it. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Granger leave the Great hall in a hurry as if she had someplace better to be. He rolled his eyes.

-HERMIONE-

Hermione quickly made her way through the castle hallways to the Head Dorms. She immediately jumped up and left the Great Hall once her owl delivered her response. She felt the anxiety bubbling in her chest as she went over and realized what she was doing. She had briefly spoken to McGonagall after her visit to the owlery and informed her of her plan. McGonagall was wary of letting her execute it initially, but Hermione seemed very adamant to make it happen. After her date with Draco, McGonagall had given them special permission to use the fireplace in their common room as a Floo. She, of course, asked permission to use it first regardless. The portrait door creaked open, and she made her way over to the large fireplace, grabbing a handful of the fine power before stepping inside. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

-DRACO-

Draco found himself once again in the library, working on his potions essay that wasn't due for another two weeks. It was on the uses of flobberworm mucus as a thickener. It was dreadful. He would much rather be out doing something else, but he was trying to avoid Granger. In Hindsight, the library was probably not the best place to try and hide. He sighed. He decided to pack up his supplies and head outside to the Quidditch Pitch. Maybe flying would take his mind off of this whole mess. He made his way towards the Pitch, only stopping in the dungeons to drop off his bag. He didn't want to risk running into her again. He grabbed his broom from the locked shed and mounted it, raising higher and higher off of the ground. He flew around lazily for a while before deciding he wanted to go further away. He flew over the Forbidden Forest and back. He stopped and hovered on his broom in mid-air. He scanned the Hogwarts grounds, noting how it had changed since the Battle of Hogwarts. Some parts of the castle had been damaged during the fighting, but everything had been restored for the most part. His eyes landed on the Astronomy Tower, and he felt an ache in his chest, remembering that night.

"Draco, Draco, you are not a killer."

"I've got to do it! He'll kill me! He'll kill my whole family!"

"I can help you, Draco."

"No, you can't, nobody can. He told me to do it, or he'll kill me. I've got no choice."

Draco shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to remember the night of June 30th, but not pushing the memories away.

"Come over to the right side, Draco, and we can hide you more completely than you can possibly imagine. What is more, I can send members of the Order to your mother tonight to hide her likewise. Your father is safe at the moment in Azkaban. . . . When the time comes, we can protect him too. Come over to the right side, Draco . . . you are not a killer. . . ."

He remembered how the late Headmaster stared at him, how his eyes seemed to almost see through his soul. He wondered how things would've been if he had taken him up on that offer if his mother would've genuinely been safe in the end.

"But I got this far, didn't I? "They thought I'd die in the attempt, but I'm here . . ."

He winced, remembering his tone. He knew being tasked with Dumbledore's assassination had been a punishment for his father's failure, the Dark Lord intending for him to die in the process.

and you're in my power. . . . I'm the one with the wand. . . . You're at my mercy. . . ."

"No, Draco, It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now."

Dumbledore had been so quiet when he spoke those words, rocking Malfoy to his core. He never knew what he had even meant until he had later discovered Dumbledore's agreement with Snape. Dumbledore knew that if Draco killed him that he would fully succumb to the Dark Lord's tight grasp. He knew that Draco's soul would be ripped apart, and he wouldn't be able to escape the guilt if he had followed through. But he still felt guilty. Even though he wasn't the one who had uttered that unforgivable spell, he was still the one that had caused his demise. He was the reason Snape had done it. But he had to admit that the old wizard knew precisely what to do. He sighed, opening his eyes and fixing them on the now pink horizon.

Draco had done a lot of evil in his lifetime, but he wasn't his father. He vowed to never be like his father, cruel and manipulative. He was a coward, always so ready to bend at the knee for the Dark Lord, although Draco had done the same. Maybe they were alike in that regard. But Granger didn't know him, didn't know who he was, and after her barbed words, he had no intention of changing that. No amount of pillow talk or whatever married couples do would change that. He refused.

He directed his broom to the ground and gracefully dismounted onto the soft, grassy lawn. He stowed his broom inside the shed and made his way back to the castle. By the time dinner had rolled around, he had been feeling slightly better. He was still furious with Granger. He made small talk with his housemates as he ate his shepherd's pie. He saw Granger take a seat at her table out of the corner of his eye and laugh with her housemates as if nothing had happened.

Typical.

A scroll dropped in front of him, breaking him from his thoughts. He recognized the wax seal as the Malfoy Crest.

Mother

He opened the scroll, his eyes quickly skimming across his mother's elegant handwriting. He felt the anger from earlier reignite in his chest as his eyes snapped up to the brown-haired witch. He threw the scroll down and stood up from the table, making his way towards her.

"Granger!"

She turned and met his fierce eyes, and she too stood in response. She drew her wand as if she was anticipating this outburst. He grabbed her by the wrists and pulled her closer to him, her wand falling to the floor.

"How dare you." he hissed.

Ron and Harry stood, ready to fight.

"Ron, Harry, don't," she warned.

Their faces were inches apart, and he tightened his grip on her wrists considerably.

"How dare you bring my mother into this."

I am excited to announce that I am currently starting a new project that will hopefully be finished after this one. So far its 13 chapters, +33,000 words and I'm not even a quarter way into the fic. It's Dramione, Post-war, 8th year and the working title is "Therapy". My new Beta and I (shout out to C) are very excited to see where this goes and share it with you! Stay sexy!- Jessinger


	18. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: don't own it.

Hell yeah I posed a week early. Enjoy loves xoxox

CHAPTER 17

Their faces were inches apart, and he tightened his grip on her wrists considerably.

"How dare you bring my mother into this."

-HERMIONE, EARLIER THAT DAY-

The portrait door creaked open, and she made her way over to the large fireplace, grabbing a handful of the fine power before stepping inside. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Malfoy Manor!"

She stepped out of the Floo and took a deep breath as their house-elf, Mipsy, greeted her.

"Mistress Cissy is this way," the little elf said before grabbing her sleeve and leading her to the East Wing of the manor. She had to stifle a gasp as she looked around; she barely recognized it. She watched as Narcissa chatted with a smaller elf she didn't remember. Narcissa caught a glimpse of Hermione out of the corner of her eye and turned to her.

"Hermione, my dear, I am so glad you asked to visit," Narcissa said.

Hermione gaped, "Mrs. Malfoy… the manor…"

"I changed the wallpaper; doesn't it look so much better!" She said excitedly.

The wallpaper had been changed to one with a pale blue background. It had been designed to look like branches, with beautiful pink blossoms. She looked closer and noticed a blue jay and various other birds, and they were moving. There were more plants with blossoming flowers sprinkled across the room, the marble flooring had been replaced with a dark wooden one, and the room overall was just brighter than it had been before.

"It's beautiful," was all Hermione could manage.

Narcissa gave a satisfied nod, "I think maybe I should burn the rest of the manor, maybe spice things up a bit," she winked.

Hermione had no idea if she was kidding or not.

"Let's sit," she motioned over towards two green Victorian chairs next to the window. Mipsy appeared shortly after with a tray of tea. Hermione took a cup before noticing a small bowl filled with cinnamon. Narcissa must have seen her puzzled look before she answered.

"Draco likes to take his with a small amount of cinnamon, don't ask me why," she replied, bringing the cup to her lips.

They drank in silence before Narcissa spoke, "so what has my son done now?"

Hermione covered her mouth as she choked on her tea, "what?" She sputtered.

Narcissa waved her off, "I recognize your look from my days with Lucius, and I highly doubt you've been visiting my husband in Azkaban, so my natural assumption would be that my son has been a wanker."

"It was me this time."

Narcissa looked at her with a quirked brow, "oh?"

Hermione recounted the last few days to Narcissa, leaving out the lewd details. Narcissa paused.

"You know, Draco was always a sensitive child. One day, he had to have been about eight years old at the time, we were walking in the gardens when we came upon an injured bird. It was young and had a broken wing, poor thing didn't have much of a chance, but Draco insisted that we could make it better. Healing spells wouldn't work on it, it was so small, but Draco nursed it back to health. He kept it in a cage, fed it, and kept it as a pet. It, unfortunately, passed away shortly after he turned ten. He cried for days upon days; we thought it would never stop.

"Finally, Lucius sat him down and said, 'Draco, there comes a time in life when things come to an end. And regardless of how that makes us feel, we can't change it. We can only move on and keep living until one day our time comes.' Unsurprisingly, that didn't help. Eventually, Draco learned to let it go to move on.

"Lucius wasn't a good man or father, but every so often, he would let his light shine through. My point is that even if someone is a bad person, they can have good moments, and vice versa. Making mistakes doesn't make us evil; how we handle ourselves afterward determines that.

"Lucius wasn't a good father or husband, but that doesn't mean Draco will be. He can be an arrogant prick, I'll give him that, but he will forgive you in time; you just need to work on forgiving yourself first."

Narcissa picked up her tea while Hermione stared at her. She had never actually had a full conversation with the witch, but she could understand now why Draco wasn't indeed like his father. She understood why Draco had gone to such lengths to protect her.

Narcissa looked at her, "while I am still a stunning woman, I'm more than just a pretty face," she said, winking at Hermione.

Narcissa set her cup on her saucer, "he will forgive you. He will be stubborn about it, but he will. Let him brood for a while and let him come to you. As for him being a wanker, that can be fixed."

Hermione stared down into her cup, not knowing what to do with the information she had just been given.

They chatted about random and seemingly meaningless things until the sun began sinking on the horizon. Narcissa stood, "you should be getting back, darling."

They said their goodbyes, and Hermione stepped into the Floo, disappearing. She had gotten answers for sure, but she wasn't sure about how she felt.

She knew that it was dinner time, and she was halfway into her Shepherd's pie when Malfoy had stood up from the Slytherin table and stormed over towards her.

"Granger!"

She was on her feet in an instant, drawing her wand. He grabbed her roughly by the wrists, causing her to drop her wand. He pulled her closer to him, the anger in her eyes apparent.

"How dare you." he hissed.

Ron and Harry stood up from the table, hands going to their wands. She looked over at the boys.

"Ron, Harry, don't," she warned.

Their faces were inches apart, and he tightened his grip on her wrists considerably.

"How dare you bring my mother into this."

She blinked back at him, shocked. He shook her lightly.

"You think I wouldn't find out? Do you think you were clever? I just got an owl from my mother telling me to stop being a wanker. You just had to bring my mother into this, didn't you? Are you out of your mind?!"

She blinked at him again, "she told me about the bird," she blurted before she could stop herself.

His left eyebrow twitched before he drug her out of the Great Hall and into the corridor, pushing her against the wall.

"Why? Why would you do that?"

"I just-"

"Don't you say a word."

"Then don't ask me questions if you don't expect an answer!"

He opened his eyes wider and cocked his head down at her, "are you kidding me right now? Are you fucking kidding me right now?"

"Are you telling me that I'm wrong? Am I wrong?"

"Shut your mouth."

"Make me."

Several emotions flickered across his face before it settled back onto anger.

"Don't do this to me, not now," he bit out.

"Don't what?!" She shrieked back.

He was panting, his face red, eyes angry. She was still pressed against the wall when he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against the stone. His face was angled down, eyes closed. She looked up at him, her neck straining. It was such an awkward position, but he was clearly going through something, so she didn't interrupt. He let out a loud sigh and opened his eyes before pushing himself off the wall.

"Just please, leave it be Granger." He said before walking away from her.

WEEKS LATER

It had been weeks since his last encounter with her, and with each passing day, the guilt in his stomach and the lump in his throat grew larger. He hated it more than anything else, being away from her, he realized.

It was late on a Friday night; she usually spent most Friday nights in the Gryffindor common room, avoiding him. He had just stepped out of a hot shower; he was wearing pajama pants without a shirt, his hair wet, when she entered the hallway. Her eyes went wide as she mumbled 'excuse me' and stepped out of the way, her side hitting the wall. He was quicker, his hands settling on her waist and forehead resting on the top of her head.

His skin was still damp, and she could feel the water from his hair, making hers wet, and he pressed her against the wall.

Why was he always pressing her against walls?

They didn't speak for nearly a minute as his thumbs drew slow circles against her hip bones. He pressed a soft kiss against the top of her head.

"I'm sorry, forgive me, please," he pleaded softly.

She almost melted, hearing him say those words to her.

"I never had a reason to need an apology from you. I'm sorry for what I said."

He pulled away from the top of her head, his hand reaching down and angling her chin up to look at him. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Hermione, please look at me," he said softly.

She did. He was looking into her eyes with an expression she had only ever seen in romance films, searching her face.

"I shouldn't have said those things to you. I shouldn't have reacted like that," he closed his eyes and swallowed thickly before continuing, "I shouldn't have been so rough with you; I could have hurt you. I'm sorry."

He opened his eyes and looked down at her.

"I'm sorry I said those things. You aren't like your father; your actions have proved that."

He shut his eyes again and gave a smile, a genuine smile, and let out a puff of air.

"What sort of things have you been doing with my father?"

She felt her face grow red and hot, "I didn't-I meant-"

"Relax, darling, I'm messing with you."

Darling.

His expression grew serious once more, "please."

"I forgive you-"

"No, not that. I want this. I want to try this; I want this to work. I need this to work."

"Oh- I uh. Yes. We could keep things casual, not label it…"

He laughed before he could help himself, "we are technically engaged. Not labeling this isn't an option."

"I suppose you're right."

"I can't remember a time where I wasn't."

"I'm sorry about Ron," she said softly.

"I'm sorry for not telling you about the charm."

"You didn't have a choice."

There was a pause.

"You know, I was actually glad when the charm chose you. It's stupid, but the moment I saw you, I wanted nothing more than to get closer. But you had to be a Gryffindor, and I knew my father would disapprove of your blood status."

Hermione swallowed. He closed his eyes as if trying to remember something.

"Third year, after you hit me," he laughed lightly, "I felt something like I wanted whatever challenge you threw at me. I remember Fourth Year, at the Yule Ball, seeing you cry over Weasley; I wanted nothing more than to hex the red hair off of him. Fifth Year, on Valentine's Day, I saw you and Potter at the Three Broomsticks, and I felt so angry, and I didn't know why. Sixth Year in potions, when you named off your Amortentia, I wanted it to be me so badly, Weasley didn't deserve you. Seventh Year," he had a pained expression, "seeing you on my floor, Godric, I wanted to fucking kill Bellatrix right then and there. I tried to find you during The Battle, I wanted to keep you safe, but I knew I'd just do more damage."

He took a deep breath before continuing.

"And Eighth Year, fucking you on the desk, I realized that I never wanted that feeling to end. I never wanted anyone else to be the one making those sounds come out of you, only my name on your lips as you come. I realized I never want anyone else to touch you, hold you, or even look at you. I don't want anyone else inside of you as long as I'm on this planet, and if anyone tries, I'll tear their fucking throat out."

Her breath caught, and her face burned.

"I realized that day you saw my mother that I do truly love you. And I realized today that watching you walk away was the biggest mistake of my life. Not the Death Eaters, not anything. Watching you walk away, nearly destroyed me."

He looked down at her, his eyes almost black as she watched his pupils dilate. She only breathed loudly in response.

"I'm serious about the touching, though. If Weasley lays a finger on you, I'll have a one-way ticket to Azkaban instantly. Do I make myself fucking clear?" His breathing was ragged and erratic as he spoke.

She squeaked and nodded in response. He rested his forehead against the wall before looking up at the ceiling.

"Fuck," he breathed.

"Is everything alright?"

He pushed her against the wall with his hips even more. His hands left her waist and firmly planted themselves in the wall next to her head. He was almost panting.

"I need you."

"I'm right here."

He looked down at her darkly. She felt something pressing up against her stomach.

Oh.

OH.

"I'm sorry," he gritted out. He was embarrassed for some reason, as if this wasn't normal.

"It's okay; it's okay."

He looked up again before focusing his gaze on the wall once more. His jaw was set firmly as if he was restraining himself.

Her hands went to the waistband of his pajamas, playing with the delicate skin that was under it.

"Hermione," he said darkly, "don't tease me. I don't want to do something we will regret later," he warned.

"No, it's okay, I want it too."

His head snapped down to look at her. His eyes met hers, and it was almost as if something inside of him broke, shattered.

His hands shot back down to her waist and lifted her, wrapping her legs around him. He carried her like that to his bedroom and threw her down on the mattress.

"Clothes. Off. Now." He commanded.

She stared at him.

"I won't ask you again. Now."

She didn't need to be told again; she began peeling off her clothing. He stopped her once she got to her knickers.

"Leave those on. I want to do it."

He had removed his pajamas as he crawled onto the bed. He hooked his fingers into her knickers and slowly dragged them off of her, kissing her thighs as he went. He threw them to the side before hovering above her.

"We will be lucky if we don't have to cast a Reparo on this bed when I'm done with you."

I'M SORRY! I JUST LIKE CLIFFHANGERS, OKAY!? ALL OF THE NEXT CHAPTER IS SMUT, LITERALLY JUST + 2,000 WORDS OF SMUT AND IT MAKES ME ASHAMED OF MYSELF.

I've had several questions regarding my new fic, here are a few things:

Is it spicy? OF F*# KING COURSE IT IS.

It is A LOT heavier than this fic, the working title is 'Therapy' if that gives you any sort of clue

It touches heavily on mental illness and various other struggles surrounding that.

The writing format and style are very different from this one, they have consistent alternating points of view narrated in the style of 'third person omniscient'.

The tags in short: Post-War, Eighth-Year, Slow Burn, Angst, Dramione, Enemies to Lovers (duh)

~Jessinger


	19. Chapter 18

“We will be lucky if we don’t have to cast a reparo on this bed when I’m done with you.”

CHAPTER 18

His lips slammed onto hers as he kissed her, his hips pressing down onto hers. His hand flew to her bra, ripping it off of her. She opened her mouth to protest as he pulled away and looked down at her.

"I will buy you a thousand of these," he said before kissing her again. 

He pressed her down harder into his mattress, biting at her bottom lip. He reached his hand down between her legs before stopping himself.

"Is this okay?" He asked.

She nodded vigorously.

"I need you to say it."

"Yes," she said, arching her back up.

He inserted one finger into her, then a second as the pad of his thumb lightly played with her clitoris. He curled his fingers up into her slowly, rhythmically. She squeezed her eyes shut as his fingers caressed the spot inside her, which made her see colors and stole the oxygen from her lungs.

"There!" She gasped.

"There?" He asked softly.

She could only nod in response as he moved his fingers against her even slower than before, teasing her. She could feel the pads of his fingers slowly dragging across that spot, causing her to squirm, attempting to get more contact.

One hand pushed her back down onto the bed, holding her still, not ceasing the torturous rhythm of his fingers. 

"Please!" She begged.

"Mmh, not yet. Be patient, Darling."

Darling

She stifled a moan as he continued.

"What was that?" He said, feigning innocence.

She whined again; this time, she didn't even try to conceal it.

"That's right. That fucking right," she could practically hear the smirk.

"Please. Please, please," she begged him again.

"Say it, my name. I want to hear you say it as you do."

She nodded rapidly as he increased the pressure and the rhythm of his fingers. His fingers quickly teased over the spot over and over until she couldn't take it. She squeezed her eyes shut and watched the light dance across her eyelids as she felt herself tense around his fingers. She arched her back and finished with a moan.

She was coming down from her high, but his fingers didn't let up, the relentless motion of his fingers causing her to twitch.

"Please, please," she gasped, "I'm sensitive."

"You didn't keep up your end of the deal. I'm not going to stop until I hear you say it," he said firmly.

She let out a moan she didn't even know she was holding in as she squirmed under his fingers. His hand pushed her back down once more.

"Stop moving," he said. It wasn't an offer.

Small electric shocks were shooting through her body as if someone was poking and prodding at her exposed nerves. It was inherently painful, but it wasn't pleasant. The sensation eventually lessened as he went on. She was clenching her thighs together as she felt herself climbing again; she could tell he knew because he spoke softly to her once again.

"Say it."

Her breathing was ragged.

"Say. It." He bit out.

She felt herself tighten around him again as she threw her head back.

"Draco!" She cried out.

He pumped and curled his fingers inside of her, working her through her second orgasm. He squeezed her thighs and let the pad of his thumb brush across her clit as he massaged the delicate and soft skin of her sex. He could feel her walls trembling, and he tried his hardest to suppress a smile. He removed her fingers once he knew she was done and grinned down at her. 

She stared at the ceiling, chest heaving as Draco massaged her hips. Once her breathing returned to normal, she propped herself up on her elbows and looked at him. She glanced down at the rather obvious and growing problem between his legs.

"Do you want me, to-um? Help you out?" She said.

"What makes you think I'm done with you?"

Oh, good Godric.

"Are you still sensitive?" 

She nodded, embarrassed.

"I have a trick for that. Lay back and close your eyes." 

She obliged, not really knowing what to expect. She wasn't a virgin, but she didn't exactly have time to shag with her schedule.

She felt something warm and wet stroke her. Her eyes flew open, and she found his blonde head in between his thighs. 

"What are you doing?"

He chuckled, "relax, Granger."

"No, you don't have to do that. You-"

"Granger," he said, looking up at her, "you taste fucking amazing."

He knew exactly what she was worried about; he had read her mind. He made eye contact with her; he didn't break it as his tongue dipped down in between her folds, tracing her lips delicately. He continued to look at her as the tip of his tongue flicked out at her clitoris, sending shockwaves throughout her body. She moaned as his tongue caressed her, closing his eyes and listening to the sounds she was making.

His hot breath ghosted against her skin as he moaned, the flat part of his tongue hitting her just right, causing her to grip the sheets. He wasn't sure who was have more fun: her or him. He felt himself twitch.

This was torture.

He must have been right about something because although he was touching her, making her feel things, she wasn't sensitive, at least not like before. She felt like the pressure and the warmth of his tongue was soothing her nerves as opposed to setting them off. She didn't know how that was supposed to work or make sense but-

"Granger, stop thinking about it."

His lips found their way to that sensitive bud, and she couldn't stop herself from lacing her fingers through his hair and pulling as he sucked at it. 

"F-f-f-fuck!"

She could feel him smirk against her. He pulled away after placing a soft kiss against it and crawling back above her. She squirmed in protest, missing him already.

"I'm going to make you feel much better, trust me," he whispered. He grabbed his wand from his nightstand and muttered a twenty-four-hour contraceptive charm before throwing it aside. 

"Ready?"

"Yes, please."

He didn't ask twice as he entered her; she arched her back. He slowly thrust in and out of her, feeling every inch of him stroke her. He was going slow, too slow.

"Faster."

"No."

"Please!"

His hands slid under her, pulling her towards him as he shifted backward. They were facing each other, upright, and he smiled at her.

"Then go faster."

She jerked her hips upwards, not quite knowing what exactly to do. She had never done anything like this before; she had never gotten off like this before. He must have sensed her anxiety because he shifted his weight to his shins and gripped her hips, guiding her. 

"Does that feel good?"

She nodded.

He brushed the hair from her face, "say it," he said softly.

"F-f-feels good."

He felt her flutter around him, knowing she would finish soon. He pushed her back down, so he was on top once more.

"I want to come together."

She could only nod as he ground his hips into her. He rocked himself against her core, groaning. His hand shit out and gripped the headboard while the other gripped at his sheets. 

"Fuck...feels good," she breathed.

"I know," he panted, too wrapped up in pleasure to smirk.

The hand that was gripping the sheets found its way to her hair; he pulled her head back, kissing at her throat. He trailed kisses down her neck until he found her breasts. He smiled as he took one of her taut nipples into his mouth. She was shaking under him as he pulled at it lightly with his teeth. He repeated the process on the other one before trailing his way back up to her mouth. He kissed behind her ear and down her jaw, nipping every once and awhile. 

"I'm going to- "

"Don't you dare Granger," he growled.

She whimpered, "I can't; I can't."

He quickened his pace as he felt her twitching around him, knowing that his request was unrealistic.

"Granger- I- You- fuck!" He gripped the headboard so hard; he heard the wood groan in protest.

She fluttered around him as she hit her peak, sending him over the edge. Once they had finished riding the waves of their pleasure, he pulled out and cast a quick cleaning spell. He conjured a cup of water and handed it to her.

"Drink. You'll get dehydrated if you don't," he said.

She didn't argue with him as she drank, her body feeling like jello. She wrapped herself in the covers and drifted off to sleep. 

NEXT MORNING

Hermione awoke the next morning to the feeling of something warm and wet between her legs. She felt a hand squeeze her thigh, and she looked up to find the wizard's head buried in between her thighs. The tip of his tongue reached out and flicked her bud, causing her to gasp. The feeling stopped.

"Glad to see you're awake," Malfoy's deep voice rumbled, latching back onto her clit.

She didn't know which was sexier: his head buried in her thighs, torturing her with his tongue, or the sound of his voice first thing in the morning. 

"Draco, no! I haven't showered-"

"Hermione, you're perfect."

"Draco…"

He lifted his head and sighed, crawling up towards her. He pulled her close, her head resting on his chest.

"How did you sleep?" He asked.

She smiled, "I slept well. What about you?"

He played with her hair, mindlessly, "well."

They sat in each other's silence for a few minutes before Hermione lifted her head.

"What time is it?"

"Just before 8:00."

"I suppose I should get showered so we can go to breakfast," she said, getting up to head to the bathroom. He got up and stretched. She began brushing her teeth and beginning her pre-shower routine. Draco had grabbed his toothbrush and wandered elsewhere as he brushed his. She had just turned on the shower when she heard the bathroom door open and shut. She looked over her shoulder as Draco put his toothbrush away. She turned her attention back to the shower when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her from behind and press up against her. 

She yelped in surprise, "what are you doing?"

"Showering," he said in her ear casually. 

"T-together?"

"Mmh."

"Are you sure?"

"Are you afraid I'm going to shag you senseless the second we step in?"

"Well, I mean, it's rather dangerous. It's slippery!" Hermione stated.

"I promise I won't jump you the second we step in," he said, rolling his eyes. 

They stepped in the shower. Luckily, it had two showerheads.

Wonder if they planned that.

Draco's back was to the wall while Hermione faced the wall. She stole a glance back at him. 

His eyes were closed as he ran his hands through his wet hair, the wet strands falling lightly on his face. The water was tracing down his skin. She watched as one ran from his neck, tracing down further, lower…

"And here you thought I would be the one ogling you," she looked up to see him smirking at her. She blushed and turned back around, facing the wall. He stepped forward slowly, wrapping his arms around her and dipping his head down towards her ear.

"It's been a few minutes, am I allowed to jump you now?" He murmured.

When he didn't answer, he moved her hair and began placing soft kisses on her neck. Her breath hitched, but she continued to shower. He traced his fingers across her hips and up to her arms. She leaned her head back subconsciously, and his hand went to the base of her throat, holding her there. He nudged her forward with his hips, and she had to plant both of her hands on the tile wall to steady herself. 

"Turn around."

She shifted to face him, and he grabbed her chin, kissing her roughly. Her hands fell on his chest as he slid down her waist and hoisted her up. She had to wrap her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist to stop herself from falling. There was a small shelf in the shower, one that you would put soaps and other things like, in this case, your lover on. He continued to kiss her as her fingers wound themselves deeper into his wet hair. 

One hand snaked around her head and grasped the back of her neck, the other nudging her legs apart. 

"Isn't this a little dangerous?" Hermione asked.

"Please just shut up," Draco responded.

She did.

Hermione had decided that even though it was dangerous, shower shagging had to be the best invention known to both Muggle AND wizardkind.

I’ve had several questions regarding my new fic, here are a few things:

It is A LOT heavier than this fic, the working title is ‘Therapy’ if that gives you any sort of clues

It touches heavily on mental illness and various other struggles surrounding that.

The writing format and style are very different from this one, they have consistent alternating points of view narrated in the style of ‘third person omniscient’.

The tags in short: Post-War, Eighth-Year, Slow Burn, Angst, Dramione

Is it spicy? OF F*#@KING COURSE IT IS.


End file.
